How It Burns
by RyukInPerson
Summary: Michael Westen was the only man Alexia had ever thought could make her glance over her shoulder to check she was alone, and now she needs his help. Can they learn to trust each other before those around them are put in danger? Michael/OC
1. Done

Disclaimer: I do not own Burn Notice

* * *

HOW IT BURNS

DONE

_London_

_2006_

She hated guns.

Other things plagued her mind though, as heavy as the weapon that rested cold and dead at her back, concealed by the leather coat that had been the only constant in her life for so many years.

Her heartbeat was steady as she followed the voices down the lengthy white corridor, the click of her heels echoing against the stark walls. The men at the end of the hall knew her, would hear her before she arrived, but she was counting on that. She was counting on the trust she had built over the last few weeks.

Without knocking, she flung the doors wide to reveal a group of four. As they turned from their game, she added an extra sway to her hips, her coat hanging open to reveal her low cut top, leather pants low on her hips to reveal a glimpse of her stomach.

They'd never know how she had sculpted the body they salivated over.

'Ah, Eloise, good to see you again,' Mark said, blue eyes wandering lower with every word. Yes, he was handsome, but the look did nothing to her, garnered no form of attraction to him. 'I must say, you certainly do know how to capture a man's heart.'

'We all know it's not your heart that you want me to capture.'

The group laughed, the unashamed grin on Mark's lips making her want to shudder. 'Can you blame me, a simple man?' he asked, his English accent a little thicker as he laughed.

'Not at all,' she answered, her accent as natural as his. She stepped behind him, running her fingers over his shoulders, feeling a little shiver run through his body. He grasped her hand, bringing it to his lips. She desperately wanted to roll her eyes even though she knew it would undermine her cover. Instead, she allowed him to nibble on the tips of her fingers, pretending that she enjoyed it as he intended. 'You better concentrate on your hand, not mine,' she said, glad that he glanced at his cards. She leant closer, her lips brushing the curve of his ear as she whispered, 'you can concentrate on me later.'

He smirked, eyes lingering on her for a moment before he looked back to the game. She leant against the back of his chair, looking over the other men in the group. She knew all of their names, all of their roles. She had learned everything about them, knew every detail of their life.

The men weren't overly old, all in their late twenties and early thirties. Despite their ages, each was a genius, their minds the reason she had forced herself into their lives.

She had earned their trust, and now she would destroy them.

It would be easy. Each night they sat with cards in hands and at eleven drinks would be served. They'd never think twice about her handling them, not when they believed that she was just as determined to cause destruction as they were.

She waited, watching the clock on the wall as it ticked slowly by. Every so often she would run her hands over Mark's shoulders, as she usually would. She knew that every minute that passed lulled him further into a sense of security, one that she had worked hard to create without crossing the boundaries she had set.

She would never get involved with her targets.

She would never get involved with anyone who was linked to her work, whether they worked for her side or not.

A knock sounded before the doors opened. The man wheeled a silver cart forward, his gaze averted from the men as he entered without a word. He poured the drinks with a steady hand born from years of practice, she guessed, his focus on the bottle in his hand.

She studied his face for the first time in all the weeks she had been in this room. He had strong features, but they weren't sharp or harsh, not with his pale blue eyes and soft lips that were made for a charming smile. His body didn't seem overly big either, though he had to be at least six feet.

She forced her gaze from him, wondering why her thoughts lingered. Once he'd poured the drinks, she walked over. 'I'll take it from here.' She flashed a smile, waiting for his eyes to dip over her body, becoming surprised when the pale blue remained locked with her green.

'Are you sure?' he asked, voice a little deep, rich with an English accent. How strange that it never sounded so good from Mark's tongue.

'Yes. They like a little feminine touch.' She brought a glass to her lips, making a perfect print on the side, the red lipstick clinging to the glass.

He nodded once before he offered a quick bow out of the room.

_What a strange man. _

She brushed her fingertips under her belt, into the little pouch that was hidden by the buckle. She quickly brushed the poison over the rims of the glasses before handing one to each of the four.

Colourless, tasteless and odourless. Yes poison was cliché, but it had always been effective. It had shaped her reputation in the intelligence community, making her one of the most feared operatives in the Northern world. Though she despised the title, she had become the Shadow Viper, her real name completely hidden from the world. There was only one operative that she had cause to fear and she only knew his name.

Michael Westen.

For all she knew, that was an alias.

She pushed her thoughts aside, watching as the men sipped at their drinks, oblivious to what they swallowed. She leant over Mark's chair, letting her hair fall over his shoulder, catching his attention.

'Ready to leave?' he asked, smirking.

She smiled as a slight sheen appeared on his brow, his hand reaching up to loosen his tie. She placed a light kiss to his temple, pulling away. 'Don't bother getting your coat,' she said, moving to stand beside the door.

He smiled at his comrades, laying his cards down before he stood up. He'd only taken one step towards the door before a glass hit the floor, the shatter snapping his attention back to the game.

He went to Cliff's side, lifting the blonde's head from the table. 'Cliff, what's gotten into you?' he asked, a snarl in his voice at the interruption. He patted the man's cheek, the sheen on his brow brighter. 'Cliff?'

Jason reached to Cliff's neck, his face paling after a long moment. 'Holy shit,' he breathed. 'He's dead.'

'What do you mean he's dead?'

Another crash sounded, a thump following as a second succumbed to the poison. Mark moved to check on Erik, but doubled over, landing hard on his hands as his stomach lurched.

'It's quite bracing, isn't it?' She asked, still leaning against the door as the Jason fell forward, head hitting the solid wood of the table with a crack. 'You got a weaker dosage, but it will take you soon.'

'You bitch,' Mark snarled. 'You'll pay for this Eloise.'

_If I had a nickel…_

She pouted, tilting her head to the side. 'I'm sorry, who's Eloise?'

His eyes widened, his mouth opening only to spill broken words. He dropped to the ground, all his dead weight landing solidly on the hard wood floor. As quickly as it had appeared, her smile dropped. They may have been truly evil bastards, but she didn't relish killing anyone. Though, she didn't feel regret over their deaths, wouldn't blink an eyelash if she had to do it again.

She turned on her heels, closing the door behind her as she walked back down the hall, around the corner. She threw smiles and blew kisses at all of the now jobless cronies she passed, acting as though nothing had changed, as though she would see them the next night as she always did.

They would never see her again.

Eloise Jefferson would disappear, kidnapped from the street, never to be seen again.

It was time for Alexia Salazar to go home.

* * *

He straightened his serving uniform, weapons concealed at his wrists as he ventured back down the corridor towards the four. Ahead, the door opened, revealing the woman, Eloise. She headed straight down the hall, stretching her arms languidly above her head as she rotated her wrists.

Over all the nights he'd been watching her with the men, he'd wondered about her. She had appeared so suddenly, worked her way into their routine, but there was nothing special about her. He'd looked over everything he could find on her only to discover one thing.

She was just a woman.

A clever one from what he could tell, but still just a woman.

He waited for her to turn the corner down the end of the corridor before he made his final approach to the door. He paused, steeling himself before he stepped through, not knowing that his job had already been done for him.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of How It Burns.

Although I do try to update every night, my current workload is going to prohibit me from doing so. As a result, this story will be update every Friday.

Please keep reading, and know that I love hearing from readers.

~ Ryuk In Person ~


	2. Just a Coffee

JUST A COFFEE

_Miami_

_2011_

'Alexia Salazar what are you doing?' she muttered, shaking her head as she knocked on Madeline's door. She knew that she should stay away from the woman, shouldn't form a friendship with her.

But she'd been alone for so long.

She didn't know much about Madeline, but she was a lovely lady, her voice loud and her smile bright. Alexia tried to avoid luxuries like friendship, tried to avoid relationships of any kind. Her line of work was far too dangerous, but she didn't seem to have the strength the pull away.

Not this time.

'Who is it?'

'It's Mia,' she called through the door. She tapped her foot, glancing over her shoulder as she tucked her hair behind her ear, the deep chestnut curling out of control, though the days were beginning to lose some of the humidity they usually held.

The door swung open and she smiled, though she couldn't match the brightness in Madeline's sparkling gaze. 'What a nice surprise,' she said, waving Alexia into the house. 'Can I get you a coffee?'

'I'd love one,' she said as she shrugged off her coat, hanging it by the door. She didn't really need it in Miami – the coldest temperature she'd experience through her stay so far was in the mid teens – but it did keep the occasional burst of wind from chilling her.

She followed Madeline to the kitchen to lean on the opposite side of the counter, watching as the older woman moved back and forth between the kettle and cupboards.

'Instant alright?'

She smiled again, her rational mind still warring with her feelings. 'Lovely.'

Madeline switched the kettle on before throwing a dishtowel over her shoulder, one that seemed to have appeared out of no where. 'Are you hungry?'

'No, I just had lunch, but thanks for asking.'

Madeline levelled her narrowed gaze at her. She placed her hand on the counter as she arched an eyebrow, the cigarette that stayed tucked between her lips giving her a strange sinister air, despite her neat, trimmed hair and massive hoop earrings. 'What's on your mind?'

Alexia flashed a tired smile. 'Nothing. I've just had a long day.'

'Excuse the language, but you and I both know that's bullshit,' she said, hands moving to her hips. 'Now start talking.'

Even if Alexia could share everything, Madeline would never understand.

'Really, it's just been so hectic at work with so much…paperwork and, ah, assignments from the boss who is an absolute fool,' she said, voice picking up. 'He is so insolent. Doesn't know a thing about what he's talking about, I mean, he's just an office man who points and shouts. He's never had any real experience in–'

Alexia just stopped herself, wanting to clap her hand over her mouth for her near mistake. She cursed mentally, appalled by her near slip. She couldn't afford to be so careless, not around a civilian.

She cleared her throat, offering a cough as her excuse for the pause. 'He's never had any real experience in computer software development.'

Alexia started to wonder if Madeline's narrowed gaze would ever falter, but a frown spilled over her lips, her stance relaxing as she huffed. 'I hate people like that, lording over us like they own the place.'

Alexia dodged the dishtowel as Madeline swung it over her other shoulder before walking back to the boiling kettle. She breathed a sigh of relief, rolling her eyes. By the time Madeline had returned, steaming mugs in hand, she had pulled an almost genuine smile over her lips, as though the outburst had taken some of the tension from her.

As if.

'Lovely,' Alexia said, taking the mug with both hands. She held it for a moment, letting the coffee warm her hands as the aroma filled her senses. It wasn't as strong or rich as she would have liked, but the fact that it felt like a gift – freely offered – gave it so much more worth. She took a sip, savouring the warmth.

Damn, she'd needed this coffee.

'Thank you,' she said, watching Madeline's smile widen. The woman could light up the world with that look.

But the day couldn't be perfect.

Madeline glanced at the clock. 'Oh shoot,' she muttered, checking her watch as though she couldn't believe the time. 'Michael forgot. Again!'

Alexia pulled her gaze from the mug in her hands at the exclamation. 'What's wrong?'

Madeline dropped the dishtowel on the counter with a huff, her brows draw together in frustration. She took a breath, a resigned calm settling over her, as though she'd been through the same disappointment so many times. 'It's just Michael. I asked him to come over for a coffee and to help me do a few things,' she said, picking up her mug to take a deep drink.

'I'm pretty handy around the house,' Alexia said with a quick smile.

A tired smile came over her lips. 'It's–'

'More than that,' Alexia finished. 'I know.'

Madeline reached out, taking Alexia's hand, her surprise at the gesture almost making her draw away. In her world, no one gave without wanting something in return, something of equal or greater value.

But this wasn't her world.

Alexia smiled, masking her surprise and the contentment that flooded her, reminded of just how much she missed out on every single day. Madeline was one of the few people she had associated with more than once and even then it had been a year since the last, since she'd allowed herself to get even a little close to another.

There was a solid knock at the door. Madeline rolled her eyes a little before she hurried over, leaving Alexia to contemplate the floral pattern of her mug, her thoughts wandering to places she tried to avoid, to places she'd known nothing of since she'd been dragged from high school.

She heard the front door open and Madeline greet two men. She shifted in her chair, turning slightly as she picked up their conversation, a smooth voice carrying into the kitchen.

'…I'm sorry, but we couldn't let Fi go alone. That guy is a lunatic on the best of days, and with the way Fi deals, she could easily have set him off. She needed back up, whether she would admit it or not.'

'Ahem.'

'Don't start again. They're very angry people. I couldn't risk the questions it might have raised. For all they know, if I pull out a phone, I'm double dealing or cheating them in another way.'

'He's right, Madeline.'

'Sam, that's not what I'm–'

Closer now. 'I know I said I would be here, but Fi is in enough danger as it is thanks to some new Russian friends. The last thing she needs is to be going to a deal with already pissed off Germans when there are some–'

'_Michael_,' Madeline interrupted, voice cheery, 'I'd like you and Sam to meet my friend, Mia.'

A silence descended as Madeline went back into the kitchen, throwing the two men a pointed glare before she grabbed more mugs from the cupboard. Alexia watched her for a moment before she turned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

She looked up, meeting a pale blue gaze, the coffee in her hand seeming to go cold.

Madeline Westen's son's name was Michael, the name sending a chill through her as he looked over her curiously.

The name wasn't what had her mind kicking into gear, though. After all, there had to be a number of Michael Westens' in Miami alone. No, it was something else, something that had her hoping that his mind did not linger in the past.

She'd seen him before.

_A knock sounded before the doors opened. The man wheeled a silver cart forward, his gaze averted from the men as he entered without a word. He poured the drinks with a steady hand born from years of practice, she guessed, his focus on the bottle in his hand. _

'_I'll take it from here.' She flashed a smile, waiting for his eyes to dip over her body, becoming surprised when the pale blue remained locked with her green. _

'_Are you sure?' he asked, voice a little deep, rich with an English accent. How strange that it never sounded so good from Mark's tongue. _

'_Yes. They like a little feminine touch.' She brought a glass to her lips, making a perfect print on the side, the red lipstick clinging to the glass. _

_He nodded once before he offered a quick bow out of the room._

She hadn't recognised his voice because she hadn't truly known it, his accent a mask, just as hers had been. But he still looked the same, body still tall and strong, dark hair spiked, his eyes piercing, though they looked older, wiser.

If he recognised her, what would he do?

He offered his hand, a smile coming over his lips.

_Just as charming as I thought it would be…_

'Michael Westen,' he said, his grip warm, firm and a little rough. He clapped a hand on the other man's shoulder, still smiling. 'This is Sam Axe.'

He was a little older, weathered. Even with his greying hair and his less than fit build, she could see the hard edge in his playful gaze. He'd done training of some form, though from a mere look she couldn't tell whether it was military, naval or other.

Sam took her hand into his, his smile holding the same playfulness as his gaze. 'Nice to meet you.'

'You too,' she said, trying to muster a smile as bright as his or Madeline's, though she knew that was impossible. She was mere feet from Michael Westen, the only man she'd ever thought could make her glance over her shoulder to check she was alone.

And his mother had been disappointed just like any other that he was late.

Alexia wanted to laugh at the normality, but another part of her was scared and seething at the same time. Even when a burn notice had burdened his shoulders, whispers had stirred the spy community, his reputation living on.

And still he had family, friends.

'Thank you for the coffee Maddie.'

She looked up from the jar before her. 'Are you leaving already?'

Alexia smiled sadly as she built her lie. 'Yes, I'm sorry. I'm on a lunch break and really should get back to the office.'

Madeline took her arm as she walked to the door. 'You'll have to come for a proper chat one of these days,' she said as she opened the door. 'I think you work a little too hard.'

'I will,' Alexia said as she stepped onto the porch, 'thanks again for the coffee.'

An effortless smile, one that she could never hope to match. 'Not a problem.'

She walked away, forcing herself to be calm even as images of Michael following her down the street to her car her flashed in her mind. He had to be angry about the London job, but then, that was years ago. With everything that had happened, he couldn't hold a grudge like that.

Could he?

She paused beside her car, taking a deep breath before she put the key in the lock. She felt the weight of her emotions, even when she'd spent so long forcing them into a little vault somewhere deep inside.

_It was just a coffee,_ she told herself, though she knew it had been so much more. It was an offering of friendship, of equality in a world that was so hateful. She'd just wanted to experience it for a while, the feeling of warmth that came over her every time Madeline smiled.

But she couldn't risk being recognised, not now. She needed her anonymity more than ever and she couldn't allow Michael the time to remember.

She stared back down the road for a moment, desperate to feel without fear, but knowing that she never could.

'Sorry Maddie.'


	3. Remember

REMEMBER

Michael leant against the counter opposite his mother, knowing that he was the cause of her sharp movements and sudden cleaning frenzy. As well as she was able to handle his lifestyle, she still worried, still needed him just as he needed her.

He picked up the mug that Mia had left, some coffee still in the bottom. Unsurprising considering how quickly she had run off.

He walked around the counter, lips pursed as his mother snatched the mug from his hand to tip it down the empty sink, though she was trying to dry dishes. He glanced to the ceiling, praying for patience before he stepped around her, snatching the mug back to wash it, knowing she wouldn't speak to him for a few more minutes.

He hated being late on her, but Fi had needed the help more than she'd ever admit.

Madeline left the sink, dropping the dishtowel to head into the lounge, her cleaning frenzy continuing. The water gurgled as he dunked in beneath the water, his hands moving to clean the rim, though his eyes caught on the lipstick mark. He stared at it for a moment, bringing it out of the suds as he examined the pale print.

Why was it familiar?

'Mum,' he started, 'what did you say that girl's name was?'

'Mia.'

'Are you sure?'

'Of course I'm sure Michael,' she exclaimed, exasperated.

He frowned, wracking his brain, still staring at the mark even as he reached beneath the suds in search of the scourer, swearing as he nicked his finger on a knife. He examined the cut – tiny – and watched as a few drops fell back into the sink, landing on the mug to briefly cling to the lipstick.

Déjà vu hit him again, so strong it felt like a blow to his chest, but still the answers evaded him.

'Oh shoot, Mia left her coat.'

A coat in Miami?

Michael dropped the mug, looking over the counter to stare at the coat rack beside the door, the leather coat clicking the final gears.

_Shit. _

He ran to the coat rack, grabbing it from the hanger as he wrenched the door open to sprint down the path, calling, 'I'll see if I can catch her.'

He hadn't heard a car start yet, but then he hadn't been listening for one, his mind focused on his displeased mother. How could he have missed it though, missed her? All those years ago, she'd slipped past and still her anonymity bothered him.

How could he not find any trace of her existence in this world?

He paused at the gate, looking down the street, head whipping around as he searched for her. If she was still on the street, she'd be easy to spot with her gorgeous curly hair and…

_Wait. Gorgeous? _

He shook his head, trying to get his head straight before he rushed down the road as someone disappeared into an unknown car, one that looked so out of place on his mother's suburban street.

He saw the woman inside shifting to reach down past the passenger seat to the floor, most likely looking for something, the moment allowing him enough time to reach it before she could disappear again. He slowed, taking a breath as he stopped in front of the car, her coat over his shoulder as he pulled on a charming smile.

'1969 Corvette,' he started, casting an appreciative glance up the bonnet. 'Very nice.'

She shot up from her search, looking at him with wide green eyes, so bright they seemed to glow.

How could he have forgotten eyes like that?

He held his smile as he pulled her coat from his shoulder, holding it up. 'You left your coat.'

* * *

_Don't freak out._

Alexia climbed from the car, glad that her legs would still support her. He looked so normal, his smile bright, though tougher than his mother's. Still she didn't trust it though, no matter how charming. He was a spy just as she was. If he needed, he could mask his emotions, hide his recognition of her face.

'I'm such an idiot,' she said, adding a blush. 'This is the second time I've forgotten it this week. I've only been here for a couple months, and I admit the hot weather is messing with me a bit.'

'Where did you move from?' he asked as she took it, pulling it over slender arms.

'When?' she laughed, shaking her hair from beneath the collar, her mind whirring with defensive manoeuvres. 'I move around so much it's getting hard to keep track.'

He nodded as he tucked his hands into his pockets. 'I thought I noticed a bit of an accent,' he said, blue gaze a little more intent. 'Spent some time in London by any chance?'

She'd been recognised.

But how much did he know?

'A little,' she admitted, staying calm even as her heart kicked up a notch. 'It was a few years ago now though.'

He nodded. 'I've been there myself, back in 2006, but I didn't get to do too much sight seeing.' _I was too busy trying to stay alive after you're interference. _

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit. _

Alexia smiled, despite her crazed inner thoughts, all trying to compel her to jump back in the car and bolt. Her keys were still in the ignition after all, and she'd left her door open, preparing for a quick getaway if she needed it.

It looked like she might.

'Thank you for bringing me my coat,' she said, still smiling though she could swear her heart was trying to leap out of her chest. 'Thank Maddie for the coffee again. I'd better get back to work.'

'No problem,' he said, that charming smile never faltering, though she could see the cogs turning in his mind, processing what he'd gleaned from their conversation. He was remembering well, quick, putting together all of the events.

_Please tell me he doesn't know my name._

'I'm sorry. This is really embarrassing,' he said, biting his lip for a moment. 'I've completely forgotten your name.'

She smiled, carefree and easy, even as her feet attempted to edge towards the drivers side door. 'Mia,' she said, adding a little laugh as she moved to her car door, leaning on the top of it as she threw her coat into the back seat. 'It was nice to meet you Michael.'

He tucked his hands into his pockets as he stepped onto the sidewalk, out of the way. 'You too.'

She closed the door, forcing herself to slowly pull her seatbelt into place before she turned the key. Her little beauty roared to life before settling to a powerful purr. She smiled at him, waving. 'See you around.'

He offered a small salute and she pulled out from the curve, barley resisting the urge to speed off for the boarder, any border, just to try and get away.

But he wasn't hostile. He had recognised her, remembered what she had done, and more than anything he seemed curious. Possibly mildly irritated, which she thought was fair enough. After all, the men that had served Mark and his three likeminded friends would have looked for the newest member of their relatively small crew to pin it on. Well, members that weren't dead, as they would have discovered Eloise to be.

She would have bet her substantial bank accounts that Michael had been that new member.

Just when she thought she could have a moment of peace, settle down and breathe for just a while, she would have to leave. Even though he hadn't seemed to be the grudge holding type, she didn't really know Michael Westen. She only knew of the things he had done, the stories around his name.

It would be far too dangerous to stick around.

* * *

Michael wanted to follow her.

Oh the questions he had for her. Who was she? How had she gotten in so quick? How had she killed the four?

He had to guess that she'd used poison, but the type was so advanced, even for 2006. He had only been gone five minutes, at most. By the time he had returned, ready to take them out, they were all dead, slumped over the table or collapsed on the floor.

And the traces on the glasses and in the blood of the four were minimal, barely noticeable unless scrutinized by scientists with the most advanced equipment. Any normal lab tech would completely miss them.

Was she the Shadow Viper? It was possible, with her apparent complete lack of existence, other than the alias' that he knew of. Everyone left a footprint at some stage, it was impossible not to when bank accounts needed to be filled and alias' were created based on tiny little facts.

It seemed she was an impossible creature.

But how?

He made his way back into his mother's house, his mind still twisting as he went back into the kitchen. He picked up the floral print mug, staring at the rim, the lipstick mark now washed away by the cooling water.

'Did you give Mia her coat back?' Madeline called from the lounge.

'Yeah,' he said. 'Did you know she's got a 1969 Corvette?'

'It was her father's. He left it to her when she died,' she answered, 'just like your father did with the Charger.'

He ignored the comment. 'What's Mia's last name?'

Madeline walked into the kitchen, hands on her hips. 'Why do you ask?'

'I'm just curious. I think I might have met her before.'

'Michael, you're not going to invade that woman's life. She's ready got enough to deal with without you being nosy.'

He rolled his eyes. 'I'm not going to be nosy.' _I just want to track her alias. _'Really, I'm sure I've met her, I just can't remember where.'

She stared at him as he dried his hands on the dishtowel. 'Landlaw,' she said. 'If I think you've been nosing around, I'll kick you're skinny little ass.'

He smiled, heading for the back door, towards the garage. 'Sure you will.'

He leant his hip against the bench beside Sam, watching as he worked on the little listening device. 'I need you to do some digging for me.'

'Into what Mike?'

'The alias Mia Landlaw,' he said.

Sam looked up. 'You think Mia is a spy?'

'Do you remember the London job I did, back in 2006?'

His brows drew together, though after a moment his eyes grew wide. 'You think she's the one who poisoned the four?'

'I know she is, just like she knows that I've recognised her.'

Sam nodded thoughtfully. 'Where do we start?'


	4. Time

TIME

Alexia dropped her keys on the table beside the door as the heavy wood closed behind her. She hung her coat on the hook, rubbing her temples as she walked straight to the couch.

She fell back into the cushions, letting out a breath for what felt like the first time since Michael had shaken her hand. She was home, so for at least a little while she could take a moment to breathe and think of her next course of action.

Step one; get the hell out of Miami.

Well, that was her preferred first step, but she still had a job to do whether she wanted to do it or not. Just a little longer and she'd be free for a time, free from instructions dealt by a man who had no experience in the field, only training.

He lorded over her, just as Maddie said, but she suspected he feared her. He knew her reputation after all, had been the one to hand her jobs that he believed only she could handle. He knew that if she ever desired, she could slip the poison that made her famous into his food or drink, even just on his skin or clothes if he were to brush them near his lips.

Unfortunately, he was smart enough to eat away from her, to never consume anything she could get near.

But he knew she was smarter. He knew that if she wanted to, she could kill him, poison or not.

She would not kill him though, not unless he became a danger to the operatives that he handled. Then she would have no choice. She had seen too many people go down because of the mistakes handlers had made, throwing orders around from behind a desk. Some didn't have any idea what the real world was like for an operative. They believed that as long as an operative was well supplied with resources, they would be able to make it through any situation alive, but that was only a basic part of survival.

Yes, each operative had good training under their belts, but there was still so much to take into account, so much information that needed to be discovered and plans to be laid. Sometimes, Thompson would hand them a mission to be completed within a week when it would need at least three to plan out.

He was learning though. She knew of all of the missions he passed out, made it her business to know. If he was endangering one of his operatives, she pulled the tiny vile from somewhere beneath her clothes and played with it, flicking it up and down in front of his gaze, watching as his eyes travelled back and forth between her and the little cylinder of glass. When she moved her fingers to play with the screw cap, she could hear the hesitation in his voice, hear him gulp as his eyes continually focused on that tiny little vile that he believed could be his undoing.

Yes, he really was learning.

Alexia sat forward, rubbing her eyes before she stood up and moved to her room. She went to the closet, digging past the clothes and into the back. She looked at the panel, seeing the fine layer of dust that had collected there. It was a fake, the contents behind it all useless documents, but if anyone had been snooping through her apartment they would have gone through the things behind that panel.

She reached up to the real hiding place, so well disguised beneath a secondary panel that covered the whole of the closet ceiling just as it should. She pushed hard, forcing the panel into the empty space to dislodge it. She leant it against the wall before reaching up to the panels beneath it. Another solid push dislodged another. She reached up and into the space, pulling a tiny netbook from within, as well as a number of envelopes.

She pushed the panels back into place before moving to her bed to sit. She flipped the netbook open, pulling papers from their envelopes. She knew the job inside and out, knew it was straight forward, but she still needed a cover. It would not take long to develop one, but there were still facts to learn between choosing an origin, personality, style, etc.

Time to get to work.

* * *

Sam had always been good at finding information, with so many of his friends-of-friends to contact. He could find something on the most secretive of people, yet he couldn't even find any trace of her alias. All they had to go on were a few mentions of poisonings that had occurred in the last few months.

Michael spread the print offs that held the information Sam had located – three pages – over the desk in the loft, leaning over them. He had stared at them for hours during the last week, hoping that something would jump out at him, anything.

It didn't matter how long he spent looking for a hint though. There was no information on the three pages that would help him find her and all he wanted to do was talk. Nothing more.

He wished he'd taken a moment to ask her about London when he'd stopped her at her car, but instead he'd just made sure that she remembered. She knew what kind of heat would have followed him, probably thought he held a grudge over it when he was merely intrigued by her secrecy.

Her skill.

He didn't condone killing, but a part of him told him that she was not sociopathic or psychotic unlike some of the operatives he had met. He could still remember the flash of panic in her eyes when she'd recognised him and couldn't work out why she was so afraid of him. Yes he'd had a reputation before he'd been burned, before so many terrible doings had been dumped into his file by Management, but did he really compel such fear in someone as feared as she was? It couldn't just be his reputation, after all, many operatives found it hard to trust people and their intentions.

What he remembered most though was the happiness that had lit up those gorgeous green eyes when she'd asked him to thank Maddie. She appreciated the friendship that she had obviously formed with his mother, though there was a dark shadow within her gaze.

She knew that she couldn't get any closer, not without risking his mother's life.

A part of him was glad that she recognised the risk, but the shadow haunted him. It was loneliness, deep and ingrained within her, a part of her.

And he empathised. He knew the loneliness of working job after job, knew how hard it was to resist human contact when most naturally craved it, as she obviously did.

She'd been an operative for at least five years. That's a lot of lost contact, a lot of loneliness locked up somewhere deep inside, and she would just have to hope it would no consume her.

Michael pulled his mobile from his pocket, glancing at the number before he answered. 'What have you got Fi?'

'About as much as Sam found,' she said, sounding a little anxious. He could hear her tapping her nails on the counter top. 'I've been asking around, but no one knows anything about her.'

He leant against the desk, rubbing a hand over his face for a moment. 'How can she be so well hidden after so long as an operative?'

'I don't know Michael,' she said, and he knew that she was rolling her eyes. 'Maybe someone's been covering her tracks.'

He shook his head. 'No one is this good,' he said, pushing away from the desk to pace. 'It's just not possible. Everyone leaves traces somewhere, especially when they work with aliases like she does.'

'You'll find her Michael. Miami might be a big city, but someone is bound to know her,' she said, her voice a little distracted.

'What's going on Fi?'

There was a pause at the end of the line before she huffed. 'I can't believe you forgot,' she exclaimed.

'What?'

He jerked his arm away, keeping his mobile at arms length as she cried, 'it's my wedding anniversary you ass!'

He brought his mobile just close enough to talk and hear, afraid she might shout again. 'I'm sorry Fi, happy anniversary,' he said, wondering how many bruises she would give him when he next saw her. 'I'll let you go. Don's probably going to be home soon–'

'To take me to dinner,' she finished, the smile in her voice warming him. 'To a beautiful French restaurant.'

He smiled. 'Have a good night, Fi.'

He hung up, knowing that she would be rushing off to get ready. Yes, he still loved her, but it was different now. He'd realised as he had watched her walk down the aisle with her brother that she was meant to be with Don. He knew that if they'd gotten into another relationship after all that had happened, they would have killed each other in the end.

But with Don, she could have a life. Oh, she'd never settle down, never stop being who she was, but that suited Don. He was, after all, like her. Wild, dangerous.

A former IRA-operative.

Michael sat his mobile on the desk before he leant over the papers that refused to reveal a hint, refused to speak even the tiniest word to him, no matter how many times they were re-read.

And worse, he knew he was running out of time.

* * *

Alexia gripped a little tighter, hoping to god that the rain would hold off just a little longer.

She glanced down, past her dangling feet to the dark alley below, the lights from the street unable to reach her. She let out a breath, glad she'd forced herself to get over her acrophobia all of those years ago, the height she'd reached on the building startling at the very least.

She swung, hitching her leg onto the window ledge with her fingers. She drew herself up, sliding the window open, glad she'd taken the time to infiltrate the building earlier in the week and set up an entrance.

And a few escapes.

She eased herself through the opening, landing steadily on her feet. Her steps were quiet as she walked through the empty offices, though the guard had passed just moments ago. It would take him another four minutes to come down this hall again, giving her enough time to get to the bosses office.

She still cast a quick glance left and right though before she knelt to pick the lock.

* * *

_Next update: 30th of April_


	5. Chase

CHASE

Michael took a deep drink of his beer, savouring the beverage for a moment before he set it back on the table. He sat back, loosely crossing his legs, reaching to run his finger around the rim of his glass.

'Why so glum, Mike?'

He glanced up at Sam, watching as his friend drained the last of his second beer. He frowned, looking back to the rim of his glass as he traced it again and again, wishing that he was back at his loft with yoghurt in hand.

Still staring at those three damned pages.

Sam placed the glass on the table before looking at him, his eyes holding the playful glow that usually rested within them, even when he frowned. 'Oh come on Mike, there's nothing you can do if there's no information on her.'

He knew, but he still wasn't happy. There was something he was missing, some hint that he had over looked, but of course he had no idea what it was. Admittedly, he'd hardly talked to her when she'd been at his mothers and when he'd stopped her at her car, but then he'd been so busy making sure she remembered London he'd let her get away before he could learn more than an alias.

Mia Landlaw, the woman who didn't exist.

Oh, the things he'd do just to learn her name, her _real_ honest to god name, just so he could get a few hours of sleep.

'Why can't you let it go?'

Michael looked up, drawing his attention from the glass before him. He took a breath. 'I thought that it was just because I wanted to talk to her about London, but now it's more,' he admitted. 'Now I need to know how she's so well hidden. It just shouldn't be possible.'

'Maybe she's not working for anyone,' Sam suggested as he waved the waitress over and ordered another beer.

'Then why would she have gone after the four? They were a threat to not only the UK, but to most of the world. They could have made the entire economy collapse after sending governments to their knees,' he said, leaning his elbows on the table.

'Then she's a vigilante intent on protecting the world.'

'But she can't have known about it without help from people in the intelligence community.'

Sam shrugged. 'Well she's got contacts then.'

Michael leant back again, rubbing his hands over his face for a moment before he drained the rest of his drink. He reached into his jacket, throwing a note on the table with the keys to the charger. 'Have some drinks on me, but not much. I want you to drive the charger back to the loft,' he said as he stood up. 'I need to go for a walk.'

He heard Sam call out a protest, but knew that the note he'd left at the table would distract his friend as he walked off, intent on heading back to his loft to sit and most likely mope as he stared at those pages and hoped for an answer that would not come.

He straightened his jacket, glancing over his shoulder on the off chance that Sam had followed him, but the promise of free alcohol had been far too strong, especially when so many divorced women wandered.

Usually he'd laugh at Sam and his ways, but his mind kept going straight back to her, to a face with only an alias.

Those green eyes.

He swore, stumbling as someone ran into his shoulder. He looked up as she ran past, throwing a hasty apology at him as she flew along the footpath. He gripped his shoulder, swearing again as he rotated it, eyes locked on the brunette as she weaved through the tourists.

She glanced over her shoulder, looking straight back at him as though trying to pass another apology. Their gazes met, blue on green.

_Shit._

* * *

It felt like someone had socked her one in the gut, the air in her lungs rushing from her as she stared into those pale blue eyes.

He broke into a run and she forced her legs to pump faster, to get her somewhere that she could disappear from sight. She glanced around, seeing only tourists as they went in search of food.

She ducked down an alleyway that would lead her to her car, picking up her speed as she shot towards the chain-link fence, heading straight to the corner where the gate met the wall. She jumped, clinging to the metal as she kicked off the wall and hooked her leg over the top, dragging herself up and over. She gasped as a broken link tore at her thigh, splitting her clothes to cut deep into her skin. She dropped to the ground on the other side, stumbling slightly as a jolt of pain hit her.

_It's nothing, _she told herself as she glanced down the alleyway. She pressed on, glancing back to see if he'd caught up but, Michael Westen was no where to be seen.

She wasn't taking chances though, wasn't going to slow down just because it seemed she had lost him in the crowd. She kept running, heading for the other end of the alleyway.

A figure leapt from the shadows. She moved to dodge but solid arms wrapped around her waist from behind as another came from their cover. She felt her breath whoosh from her lungs as she landed, her vision swimming as her head became acquainted with the concrete. The arms around her released, the shape moving away from her.

Alexia blinked, looking for clarity, but darkness tugged at the edges of her vision, trying to pull her under. She forced her eyelids open, seeing a foot sweep towards her. She rolled to the side, pulling herself shakily to her feet. She swayed, leaning against the wall of the alleyway for a moment, hand reaching to the sharp pain in her skull, feeling the warmth of blood as it slowly seeped into her hair. She dropped her hand, seeing the thick red on her fingers for a moment before she forced her body into a defensive position.

Her eyes focused on them, though her vision was still blurry. Each was wearing black, their broad bodies stretching the fabric of their shirts. She shook her head, feeling a rush of dizziness, but her vision cleared slightly, letting her see the hardened features of each, one with blonde hair, the other with black.

A fist flew towards her and she blocked it, another coming at her from the side. She kicked, hearing him expel a sharp breath as he stumbled backwards, an arm around his stomach. She ducked under the blonde's arm as it arched towards her, her hands gripping his wrist to twist the limb behind his back, eliciting a sharp cry of pain.

She pushed him forward, sending him tumbling towards his partner before she sprinted for the end of the alleyway, towards the bustling Miami crowds. Another wave of dizziness crashed over her and she stumbled, hands meeting concrete for a moment before she pushed herself up.

She scolded herself for missing the second attacker, for being so blind, for not assessing the area, but then she had no idea why she was being stalked, how they could have known she would take the alleyway if she'd needed to make a quick break for her car.

Unless…

Alexia halted as another appeared near the end of the alleyway, so much larger than the others. He cracked his knuckles as he approached, a slight smirk on his lips. She straightened, ready to fight as she listened to the footsteps of the men behind, the heat of blood as it seeped from the wound on her head an increasingly larger patch.

She shot forward, landing a solid punch in the new foe's stomach before swinging around to kick at the others, heel connecting with their cheeks in an arch, sending them stumbling.

She gasped as an arm wrapped tight around her neck, a stubbled cheek coming to rest against hers. She coughed as he tightened his grip, her fingers scratching his arms before she swung them up and back, hands slamming over his ears. He cried out, releasing her enough for her to land an elbow on his ribs then a solid kick to his groin.

He crumpled but another's hands locked around her wrists, twisting both of her arms behind her back. She gritted her teeth, refusing to cry out in pain as she was forced to her knees. A foot came down hard on the back of her ankle, one on each side to pin her legs.

Fingers entwined in her hair, wrenching her head back. The blonde stepped in front of her and she locked onto his gaze. He wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand, glancing back for a moment to see his comrade rise slowly, hunched.

She forced a smile, though it was really a baring of teeth. 'So, I guess you boys like it rough,' she said, still smiling even as she felt to cool metal of a silencer against her temple. She threw a glance to the one she'd kneed in the groin, one hand on his jewels and the other tight on the trigger. 'Either that or you're into necrophilia.'

The blonde slapped her and she flinched, feeling her shoulder nearly dislocate. She licked the inside of her cheek, feeling how tender it was before she looked up to him again. 'Alright, if you're not just ambushing the lonely girl in the alley, tell me what you want.'

He smirked. 'He said that you would try to distract us.' He moved a little closer, reaching beneath her shirt, hand trailing over her hip and to her back. He plucked the envelope from her waistband before he moved back and out of reach, waving it in front of her nose. 'But we have what we came for, so now you are of no use. You have no power.'

She let him see the darkness in her gaze, built up from so many years as an operative. 'If I'm going to die, at least tell me who sent you.'

He waved the envelope in front of her again. 'No need.' He looked to the man with the gun. 'Kill her.'

She'd been in this situation before, but there had always been ways for her to escape, something that her captors had missed, but still slightly dazed with her body immobile there was nothing she could do. She closed her eyes, wishing that she could have had just one more chance to go to her parents graves and sit for a while, one more coffee with Maddie.

One more look into that blue gaze.

The hands released her wrists. For a moment she knelt there, surprised, but then her mind kicked into gear, not caring why he'd let go. She dropped to the ground, sweeping her leg along the concrete to trip the remaining men.

She leapt up, swaying for a moment before she looked to the three men on the ground. The black haired man was unconscious. The two that she'd tripped were trying to get up, their backs arching as they tried to catch their breath.

A foot swept out, kicking the blonde in the head, knocking him out. A hand reached to take the envelope that had been plucked from beneath her shirt. The black haired man met the same shoe before the feet were travelling towards her. She reached up, holding her head for a moment as she lifted her gaze, hands gripping her wrist. He forced them above her head and back into a wall, pinning her body with his hips. 'You're not getting away again,' he said.

She stared into the pale blue, feeling her cheeks flush as she remembered her thoughts. Had she really wished to see those eyes again in what were nearly her last moments, though she'd spent so long wondering if he was still angry at the heat that would have been upon him as a result of her job in London?

She swallowed, feeling dizzy as the adrenaline of the fight started to wind down, even as her heart thumped hard against her chest. 'You're just lucky. I'd be speeding into the night, never to see you again if those guys hadn't ambushed me.'

'Yeah,' he said. 'I guess I am.'

She forced a grin even as her head spun, her legs weak. She slumped and he caught her before she could hit the concrete, arms supporting her. 'I think…' She shook her head, trying to clear the fog that was descending, knowing she should stay conscious. 'I think I hit my head.'

Her head lolled and he moved to support it with his hand, withdrawing as he felt the warmth of blood.

* * *

_Next update: 7th May_


	6. MisTrust

MIS/TRUST

Michael glanced to his hand, red coating his fingers. 'Stay with me,' he said as he shifted, hooking an arm beneath her legs to lift her. They'd run quite far and his loft was close by, but carrying her down the street would still look suspicious.

He went to the closest door along the alleyway. He placed her on her feet, still supporting her as he tried the knob. He twisted hard before he kicked it, breaking the lock. He carried her inside, carefully setting 'Mia' on the floor. He reached up to gently lift her eyelids, checking for concussion as he pulled his mobile from his pocket and dialled.

'I'm a little busy Mike,' Sam said as he picked up.

'I need you to bring the car up the road, outside the jewellers.'

'What's going on?'

'You wouldn't believe me if I told you.'

He hung up, tucking his mobile back into his pocket. He leant a little closer, patting her cheeks. 'Come on, don't pass out.'

Her eyes fluttered open for a moment but she was struggling. He pulled his jacket off, blood already on the sleeve from a cut in her leg, likely made when she'd jumped the fence. He brought her head forward, pressing the sleeve to the wound on her head. She'd hit the ground hard, but the concussion she'd sustained would only require bed rest, the flow of blood from her head already slowing.

He gently checked her neck, seeing a slight flinch from her, but feeling everything in tact. Her eyes were still open though he knew she would have to sleep, especially now that the adrenaline would be working its way from her system. He took her hand in his, loosely holding the palm. 'Squeeze my hand,' he said, a strange relief washing over him when her fingers tightened. 'Okay, each finger one at a time.' She did as he told and he felt a little smile lift the corner of his lips.

He asked her basic questions, where was she, what was the date, who was the president? She answered each correctly and quickly even though she was obviously on the brink of sleep, the run before she'd been ambushed only adding to the stress of her body.

And who knew why she was running in the first place? Had she just finished a job?

He pulled himself away from the questions, listening for the familiar purr of the charger, still holding together after all it'd had been through with him. As soon as he heard it he put his jacket back on and rolled up his sleeves, lifting her again. He walked straight out into the alleyway, keeping to the shadows as he made his way to the car.

Sam climbed out of the car and opened the door for him, eyes bulging as he looked at the girl in his arms. He opened his mouth, closing it as he saw the glare that Michael threw his way, telling him to keep quiet, most likely until they were at the loft.

Michael carefully placed her in the back seat, moving to lift her head and rest it on his lap, his hand beneath to put pressure to the wound. He heard the front door slam and felt them pull out from the curb, but he was focused on her, studying her features as she slipped into slumber, breaths steady. He caught himself reaching out to brush her fringe from her eyes and withdrew his hand, forcing himself to merely observe, to see the soft shape of her lips, the way her eyelashes cast the faintest shadows over her cheeks in slumber.

He had so many questions, but they would have to wait as even though a part of him wished to wake her, another part begged him to let her sleep and rest. When she was ready, rejuvenated after her sleep, he would ask her why she was ambushed.

He moved, hearing the muffled crackle of paper. He pulled the front of his jacket open as far as he could without disturbing her, reaching in to brush his fingers over the seal.

Why was the envelope so important?

She stirred on his lap, cheek rubbing against his thigh as she shifted.

'Sam,' he said, clenching his teeth as he sent his mind spinning back towards the questions of the envelope, hoping to distract himself from her movements as she rubbed against his thigh again. 'Can you drive faster?'

* * *

Alexia squeezed her eyes tighter as a throb started at the back of her head, a headache tugging at her mind. She touched the tender lump on the back of her skull, eyes flying open as her fingertips brushed over stitches, the hair surrounding the wound slightly wet.

She brought her fingers before her eyes, seeing no blood, not even crusty red from a dried wound. She looked around in the glare of the room, seeing dust dancing in the light as she looked up at the beams above her head. She was in a place she didn't recognise, obviously a number of hours after she'd hit the concrete, she decided after taking in the early morning light.

She was ambushed.

She was injured.

She was somewhere unfamiliar in a bed she didn't know.

The last person she'd seen was Michael Westen.

She moved carefully to the edge of the bed, feeling no dizziness as she sat up. Her shoulder protested as she shifted, her neck a little sore, just like her leg, though she knew that the injuries were from her impact on the concrete, the choke hold and from climbing the fence. She carefully rolled her head on her shoulders, feeling a twinge of muscles, but nothing more. Judging by the headache and the lump on the back of her skull, she had a mild concussion, but nothing serious.

She pushed the covers aside, startling as she stared at the pink silk pyjama bottoms, the shorts high on her thighs. She carefully lifted her leg, feeling stitches pull at her skin before she looked around again. There was no sign of her pants or the envelope. At least the bastards who'd ambushed her hadn't been able to take it with them.

She gently touched the wound on the back of her head. Had he tended to her?

_No way, _she decided, despite what the logical part of her mind argued._ Why would he?_

She listened for a moment, hearing no movement as she stood and walked quickly to the table near the door, then to the small kitchen. She looked through every draw, then every normal hiding spot that spies commonly used, but there was no sign of it. If not for the fact that it had nearly gotten her killed, she wouldn't have cared what was in it, but people were after it, willing to go against a trained operative to get to it.

She scolded herself again for her mistake. She knew she should have noticed both of the attackers before being tackled. Hell, she knew that if she hadn't been fighting the effects of a solid concussion, she would have kicked their brawny asses.

But that meant they knew that they had to surprise her. Considering her anonymity, they had to have been led to her, had to know her, and there was only one person who knew her activities.

'You're awake.'

She spun on her toes, trying to locate the origin on the voice, but no one was to be seen.

'How's your head?' he asked, voice followed by the creak of a stair, sending her gaze to a loft on the other side of the open room. She stared at him, unable to take her eyes from him as he reached the bottom step, hands tucked deep into the pockets of comfy jeans, his black t-shirt stretched just right over his shoulders and chest.

He stepped towards her, slow, almost predatory as he stopped just feet from her. '…Mia.'

She shook herself mentally, clearing her throat. 'I'm fine, thank you,' she said, watching his uncertainty. He stepped around her and she watched him, tugging her shorts when he wasn't looking in a desperate attempt to make them even just a little longer.

He opened the door to the fridge, reaching in, giving her a moment to steel herself before he leant back. He held up a little tub, flashing a grin that made her heart stutter. 'Yoghurt?'

She closed her eyes, barely stopping them from falling from the sockets. She reached up, massaging her temples for a moment before she levelled her gaze at him. 'I'm sorry, maybe it's just the concussion, but I'm a little confused at the moment with the whole you coming to my rescue and then stitching me up thing.'

'You can thank Fi for the shorts. There's a pair of jeans here for you as well.' He put the yoghurt on the counter, the only object that separated them, before he leant against it. 'So, what's your name?'

'You recognised me from London and still helped me,' she said, brushing off his question. 'Thank you, and I'm sorry. I know what kind of heat would have fallen on you after the four were dead.'

Okay, so she wasn't going to fess up straight away, but he had leverage. 'I lived.' He went to take a step around the corner, seeing her shift back a little. She was wary of him then, he figured, stopping as though stretching back around to the sink for a spoon. He'd have to be careful not to scare her off. Even in her injured state, he bet she would still be a very difficult opponent.

He opened his yogurt, digging in before he asked. 'Why did they want the envelope?'

'I don't know. I haven't read it yet.'

He took another spoonful, the flavour sending a little wave of bliss through him. 'Where did you take it from?'

'Why do you care?'

Fair question. 'You were ambushed and nearly executed in an alleyway over it,' he said, making sure he held her gaze. 'I'd say it's pretty important, because whoever set that ambush knew what you were doing and when. They may even have been able to guess the escape routes you had planned.'

She stilled, staring straight back at him. What harm would there be in telling him? 'The offices of the German Consulate General.'

'Why?'

'Something was planted there, a document. I don't know what's inside. I just knew it was there and that the Consulate was not supposed to get their hands on.'

'How did you know?'

'How do all operatives know?' she asked, her tone biting. 'My handler was the one to give me the job.'

'And you think–'

'He was setting me up,' she finished, eyes hard as she stared back at him, pure anger churning in her gaze. 'Yeah, I do.'

Michael stared at her, watching her flinch as she moved her shoulder. She was injured and already planning something. If she tried to rush in now, she would be killed, especially when her handler seemed to be so connected.

'I didn't know that he was this good. He's always been useless, especially at assigning completion times for a job,' she said, rolling her shoulder and flinching again. 'I didn't know he had the balls to try and come after me.'

'Well, apparently he does,' he said, setting his yoghurt down.

'He won't for long,' she growled.

'Don't rush into this. You don't know if there was anyone else in that alleyway. I didn't see anyone, and as far as I know we weren't followed here, but there's still a chance we were.'

'I'm good at disappearing.'

_No kidding._

'And what about the information in the envelope,' he said. 'They're obviously desperate to get it. What are you going to do with it?'

She took a breath, blowing it out slowly. 'I don't know.'

'Then let me help you.'

She stared at him for another moment, the same shadow of loneliness in her eyes fighting with her mistrust. He put his hands flat on the table, non-threatening in his intentions. 'Please…Mia,' he said, trying to keep her I her comfort zone.

'It's Alexia,' she said, voice a little strained, her eyes a little wide, surprised she'd revealed it. 'Ah, Alexia Salazar.'

He smiled at her reassuringly, pale blue open to her. He felt a little spark of relief light inside him as she smiled back, the quickest quirk of her lips as she held out her hand. He leaned forward, taking it, feeling the silkiness of her skin, the warmth as he stared into her eyes. 'Nice to meet you.'

Alexia Salazar

The Client

* * *

_Next update: 14th of May_


	7. Demands

DEMANDS

Her mind whirled, using the simple contact of his skin to ground her as she considered the consequences of what she'd revealed. Was he playing a game, or was he really going to help her?

She hoped it was the latter, but she'd still keep her guard up, watching every movement he made. If he tried anything, any attack or move, she'd be prepared to knock him on his ass.

She fixed her sleeves, brushing her fingers over the bracelet beneath the dark fabric, feeling the pouch within that concealed the little vial, possibly the only leverage she had over Michael. She didn't like the idea of using it, but for now she needed to protect herself in even the smallest ways. He obviously didn't recognise her name, but she could reveal herself as the Shadow Viper, an alias he was sure to recognise.

First she would be clear of his intentions though.

'Where's the envelope?' she asked, making sure her tone was neutral, her eyes clear as she looked at him.

'Safe,' he said, reaching into a cupboard in the kitchen. He handed her a piece of gauze and some surgical tape. 'You might want to cover the stitches on your thigh with this, keep them from getting caught on anything.'

'Thank you,' she said as she took it from him warily, knowing it was a good idea as she quickly taped it over the back of her thigh. She straightened, levelling her gaze before she again asked, 'where's the envelope.'

'Safe,' he repeated, hands in a non-threatening gesture as he went to his fridge again. 'I can get it now if you want, but you need to eat. You must be starving.'

She opened her mouth to protest, but a strangled growl rumbled from her stomach, cutting her off. She wrapped her arms around herself, a blush colouring her cheeks when he peeked over the fridge, eyebrow quirked.

He stood, smiling. 'I'll take that as a yes.' He offered one of the tubs of yoghurt to her, still keeping the counter between them to keep the distance comfortable. He flashed that charming smile, making her heart stutter again as she reached for the yoghurt, a spoon balanced precariously on the top. It fell and she reached to catch it before it could clatter to the countertop. She felt the cool metal in her palm just as the warmth of a hand covered hers.

They stared at their hands, his over hers as they held the spoon. She lifted her gaze, meeting the pale blue, eyes wide.

And suddenly the warmth disappeared.

* * *

Michael dropped his hand, reaching for his own yoghurt as he cleared his throat. He turned his back to look out of the window above the sink as his heart rate sky rocketed, the creamy taste of blueberry distracting him as his blood rushed through his veins.

He took calming breaths around his spoon, hoping she hadn't seen the flash in his eyes, the telltale sign of just how much her touch affected him. He clenched his fist tight, savouring the lingering warmth of her skin, even as his mind screamed for logic. He was just helping her with her problem, as he did any other person, nothing more. He harboured no feelings towards Alexia Salazar, romantic or otherwise. _None_.

But damn, her skin was so silky…

He shook his head, biting down on the spoon until he thought he'd never be able to unclench the muscles in his jaw, the ache spreading to the bone. He looked to the high ceiling of the loft, praying for strength as he turned. He tried to stay focused on his yoghurt.

He failed miserably.

He found his gaze drawn to her as she pushed her spoon around in her yoghurt, her cheeks still flushed with a beautiful pink as she took the first mouthful. He recognised the little spark of enjoyment in her eyes as she first tasted the blueberry, having felt is so many times. It was more powerful in her gaze, the green sparkling as she took another mouthful, savouring it for a moment.

'When was the last time you had a break?'

She froze and he regretted speaking as he watched the light in her eyes go out. She looked up, seeming to fix on his shoulder as she asked, 'why does it matter?'

'It doesn't really, I guess,' he said as he dropped his empty yoghurt tub in the bin, the spoon clattering in the sink for a moment. 'I can tell it's been a while though.'

She stared at his shoulder for another moment before she looked back to her yoghurt, seeming to ignore him, though he knew that she was keeping her guards up, staying focused on him.

'How long?'

She flinched a little as she froze, her shoulder tightening uncomfortably, but she didn't say a word. She just stood there in her long black top and pink shorts, her deep chestnut hair curling down her shoulders. If he hadn't been so focused on her, he would have missed the flinch, wouldn't have even known she was in so much pain.

He stepped around the counter slowly, seeing her eyes instantly lock onto his feet as he moved. He stopped a few feet away, still trying to keep a comfortable distance from her. 'You're in pain,' he said. 'Aren't you?'

'Nothing I haven't dealt with before,' she said absently, still pretending to concentrate on her yoghurt even as she watched his feet edge a little closer.

He stopped when she took a step away, letting out a sigh. 'I don't want to hurt you Alexia, and I know that you don't trust me, but I've had a lot of experience in emergency situations with injuries, so I know what to do to get your shoulder right.'

She just stopped herself from reaching to the stitches on her skull and the tightness on her thigh as she stepped away from him. 'This isn't an emergency.'

'I still know how to make it feel better.'

She knew he did, that he could, but she wasn't ready to put herself in a vulnerable position with him. Not right now, when there was so much going on. She was already trusting that he would help her take care of Thompson, but that was at a distance. She could watch him, react if he made a move. In her injured state with the concussion still strong, she would be slowed, disadvantaged so severely against a man that she and many others had feared by mere knowledge of his reputation.

He reached out and she stepped away again. 'Don't,' she said. 'Just, stay away from me.'

Green locked with pale blue. He stared, seeing the fear that he didn't understand and the shadow of loneliness that lurked deep within her, and his heart twisted. He dropped his hand, stepping away even as his feet tried to move forward, desperate to reach out to her.

For Alexia, there was more than just a shoulder to be repaired.

* * *

She walked away from him, keeping the distance between them constant as she made her way to the bin he'd gone to before. She dropped the empty tub inside before moving to the sink, half her gaze focused on Michael.

But he didn't move. He stayed in his place, feet still and hands by his side, fingers curled into fists, though she didn't know why. She felt his eyes though, felt them move over her, as though he could see her thoughts just by looking intently at her head until she felt the burn of his gaze on her skin.

She washed her spoon quickly, drying her hands on the dishtowel near the sink before she turned back to him. She took a breath, leaning against the sink, her hands behind her back. Her fingers instantly reached beneath her sleeves, brushing the little vial that was concealed within the bracelet to steady herself. 'I want the envelope and the rest of my clothes,' she said, no request in her voice, only demand.

He held her gaze for a moment before offering a quick nod. He turned on his heel, heading to a bench along the wall that led the door, arm reaching beneath a suit jacket. He moved it aside, grabbing something blue before he walked back over to her.

'Your pants had a very large rip, so Fi threw them out and left these for you,' he said, handing over a pair of dark jeans, the denim a rich blue.

She took them, nearly sighing at the gorgeous material, knowing it had to be designer. 'Who's Fi?' she asked, unable to stop herself.

'An old friend.' He smiled and she saw the memories dance in the pale blue. 'Practically threw me out of the window and wouldn't let me back into the loft to stitch you up until she'd cleaned you up.'

She blinked, catching herself before she reached to the back of her head, remembering that her hair had been wet, but from water, not from blood. She glanced back to the fabric in her hands, then the smile on his face. It was so kind, of his friend, thoughtful. It was also kind of him. He really had stitched her up, had helped her even after what she'd done.

'Tell her I said thank you,' she said, nearly hugging the denim to her chest. It had been so long since someone had thought of her so caringly, except for Madeline of course.

'I'm sure that you can tell her yourself. If you really do accept my help in taking care of your handler, then she'll assist when she can.'

She nodded, placing the jeans on the countertop, ready to switch from the rather high cut pyjama bottoms. She glanced up and he smiled. She tilted her head to the side, watching him for a moment. His eyes widened and he offered a hurried apology before turning sharply on his heel to face the other way while she quickly stripped the silk shorts and pulled the denim on, the material soft against her skin. She was glad Michael had given her the gauze patch and the surgical tape, the stitches safely tucked beneath it.

She quickly pulled the zip up and buttoned them, straightening her top. 'You can turn around now.'

He turned slowly, as though worried she was playing a joke, the smiled as he saw she was clothed. 'Fi's a good judge of size.'

She shrugged. 'They're a tad tight, but they're still really comfortable.'

He stepped forward, keeping just a little distance, the envelope before his eyes. He looked over it. He held the envelope out, the charming smile replaced by a hard set jaw, the features of a spy. 'Ready to see what's inside?'

* * *

_Next update: Tuesday 18th of May and Friday 21st of May. _

I'm going to publish two chapters this coming week as I will be going overseas for school holidays and will be unable to write.

I hope you'll continue to read when I return.

~ Ryuk In Person ~


	8. Decipher

DECIPHER

She took the envelope, a little flash of anger igniting as she remembered the ambush. She had nearly died for the information inside the flimsy sheet of paper. As she held it, she became aware of how lucky she had been to have literally run into Michael, and even more so to have him sprint after her.

Funny, considering how she had been dreading what he would do if he caught up with her.

She slid her fingernail in and sliced it open, reaching inside to pull out the she sheets, all carefully folded. 'Well, so far so boring,' she muttered, discarding the envelope on the counter before unfolding the pages, seeing one of seven printed on the bottom.

She read, skimming through the first page, the words nothing of importance. She flicked through a few more, seeing normal things; the German Consulate General logo, quick summaries and basic figures that would be seen in a weekly or monthly report.

She flicked through again, releasing a sigh as she started to believe that she really had nearly been killed over paper, nothing more, but she couldn't understand why. Thompson, though he was a bastard, knew that she only wanted to complete her jobs and take her time off between. He knew that she wasn't a threat to him unless he became a threat to another of the operatives beneath him, as she had made that plainly clear.

Why the hell had he sent her to intercept a planted envelope – a boring as hell envelope of no significance – before it could be read in the German Consulate?

Unless…

'He was hoping to pin his deed on me while he disappeared with it, though I can't imagine what the deed is,' she said, eyes locked on the logo at the top of the page. She brought the paper closer but the numbers she believed she had seen were gone, so she flicked through a couple, the digits still eluding her.

She spun on her toes to face the window, holding the first page up to catch the light of the morning. There was something there, within the logo, tiny specs that shone just a little brighter than the crisp white paper that surrounded them.

She took a step forward, keeping her distance from Michael as she heard the soft pad of his shoes near. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing the brief space between them, his broad shoulders the only thing she could see.

He took a step back, seeing the flash in her green eyes, the same one always telling him to keep away when he reached out to her. 'What do you see?'

Alexia stared for another moment. 'I'm not sure,' she admitted. 'I think there's something disguised in the logo, but it's too small for me to be able to see it properly.'

'And?' he prompted.

'It's a forgery. This isn't an official letter.'

He nearly stepped forward but managed to pause, waiting until she turned before he held his hand out for the pages. She handed them over and he instantly adopted the position she'd held before, the first page held to the sun that shone through the window. 'I think we're going to need a magnifying glass,' he said after a moment. 'Maybe even a microscope.'

'Happen to have those just lying around do you?'

He handed her the pages again, stepping around her to head to the stairs to the loft. She heard him rummaging around for a moment. He appeared at the top of the stairs again and descended, a microscope in hand.

'What have you got up there? A lab?'

He flashed his charming smile. 'A desk.' He set the microscope down in front of her before taking a few steps back, as though still remembering that she didn't trust him to be close. If he kept up with it, she was worried she might start thinking it was sweet of him.

She shook her head, forcing herself to focus on the pages in hand. She put the first beneath the microscope, bringing the logo into view, but there was nothing. 'Is there a light?'

She felt Michael brush past her, moving to the other side of the counter before he flicked the switch, illuminating the page from beneath. 'Aha!' she exclaimed as not only digits but letters came into view, following the contours of the logo. She shifted the page, following the coding until there was no more to follow.

'What do you see?'

'Just pass me another page,' she said, holding a hand out as the other took the page aside. She set the paper up in the final position of the first page, exclaiming again as the text continued around. Another page was handed to her, and the text continued, on and on through the various pages, completing on the seventh page.

She set the first page up again, grabbing Michael to lead him in front of the microscope. He threw a curious glance to her before lowering his head, staring down. He read the text, standing up again after a moment. 'I don't get it,' he admitted, shaking his head. 'Is it coded?'

'Yes, and I managed to decipher a little of it.'

'How?'

'It's an original code, something that was created for the specific purpose of encoding this text, so there are little hints within the actual pages that I thought were run-ons of unimportant information. If we can find all the clues, we can decipher the text that's hidden with the logo and work out what it was that I nearly got killed over.'

Michael stared at her for a moment before whirling on his toes, heading for the fridge. For a moment, she thought he was going to get another yoghurt, but he reached for the top, grabbing a note pad and a pen. He handed them to her. 'It sounds like you'd be able to decipher it quicker than I could,' he said, leaning against the counter in front of her.

She took the pen, quickly copying the sequence of coding from each page before she grabbed them, the notepad and pen, moving to the bed. She spread them out, sitting down behind them to look over each page in sequence, the notepad discarded beside her for the moment. She tucked the pen behind her ear, staring at the pages, much as he had stared at what little information he'd been able to find on her. It was strange how those three pages which had been the centre of his very thoughts for so long had nearly been forgotten, all the hours he'd agonised over them worthless now that she was sitting before him, on his bed. Not twelve hours ago, she had been a mystery, her anonymity an angry, gnawing curiosity that had kept him from retiring to the very bed she was perched on for nights on end.

Alexia Salazar.

He dared to shift a little closer, settling into the arm chair near the bed, watching as she stared intently at the pages. She sat for a while, completely immobile, chin resting on her hands, elbows on the knees of her crossed legs. He took the moment to look over her, see the way her hair fell in waves and curls, the chestnut a beautiful contrast to her lightly tanned skin. For a moment, he believed that even her breathing had stopped, but he could see the slight rise of her shoulders in controlled breaths.

Minutes ticked by, and he continued to observe not only her stillness, but every detail of her, becoming so used to her statuesque repose that when her hands darted out to shift the pages into a different order, he nearly leapt out of his chair from surprise.

He put a hand to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart for a moment before he settled again, continuing to watch as her head tilted, just slightly. Her hands darted again, moving a few more pages from the order to shift them into a different place in the line.

After one final shift, she tilted her head forward, the pen falling into her waiting hand, ink on paper as she circled various points on the pages, pieces of texts that were the clues to the code. Just as quick as she'd begun, she had finished, the notepad shifted into an easily accessible place so she could see the coded text and the pages from the envelope.

She worked quickly. She would write a line, taking some of the words, then cross the line out with a stroke of the pen. She followed the same process, taking more and more words from each new line, following the pages, the circled words that provided the deciphering hints.

He watched her the whole time, wishing he knew what was inside her head, the fantastic intellect that was turning within her mind. Deciphering codes was easy when they followed a pattern or a more standardized coding, or even a mixture of twenty, as long as you knew the features of each coding style. But to take the clues of an original code, figure out their order by mere observation and decipher them with only a notepad, a pen and the power of a mind was nearly sending him giddy.

And still, despite his fascination over her, he could only think of deciphering all of the emotions, the shadows in her eyes that made her life.

She ripped a wad of pages off of the pad, throwing them out the way as she continued.

Soon, the minutes had turned to half an hour, and she still sat, legs crossed as she worked, the sound of her pen the only break in the silence as he watched.

'It's a virus of some form,' she said suddenly, still intently focused on the notepad. 'It's been weaponized, as a number of governments have attempted to do before it was banned when the Biological and Toxic Weapons Convention was created, but that was in the seventies, and it took twenty years to get over a hundred countries to sign it, and since then a number of countries have become capable of weaponizing viruses, so–'

'Someone has weaponized a virus when they shouldn't have.'

'Just a little,' she said, still writing frantically. 'And…'

'And what?'

'Getting there,' she said, standing suddenly, a grimace pulling at her lips when her head throbbed a little harder, the stitches in her thigh tightening for a moment. She stretched, cracking her back, but she never stopped writing. 'I can understand why Thompson would try to kill me to get his hands on it. It's been modified so that anyone infected is highly contagious in the early stages, where it was not before, meaning that those infected could pass on the infection before their symptoms surface. It's also been made mostly resistant to vaccines, though it notes that there are few successful on humans, meaning that whoever was in charge of modifying it had access to it.'

'That's good to know.'

She nodded. 'There's nothing on the symptoms, but there's a type species mentioned here.' She scribbled on the notepad for another moment, leaning over the bed to see the pages of the notepad she had ripped off. 'Z…ZEBOV. Which one is that?'

'I've got a laptop up in the loft if you need it…'

Michael stared at her for a moment as she froze, hand still resting on the page, the pen gripped so tightly in her hand that it looked ready to snap.

'Alexia?' he said as he rose from his chair, stepping a little closer when she didn't respond. 'Do you want me to get the laptop?'

She shook her head.

'Then what is it?'

She looked up, gaze meeting his. 'We need to make sure this doesn't get out, that all notes and samples of the weaponized virus are destroyed.'

He felt a little chill roll down his spine. 'What is it?'

'Ebola.'

* * *

_Next update: Friday 21st of May_


	9. Just a Promise

JUST A PROMISE

Michael slumped back into his chair, expelling a breath. 'Shit.'

'No kidding,' she said, looking down to stare at the scrawled writing the covered the notepad in her hand. She wished it wasn't true, wished that some other virus had been weaponized, that it hadn't been one to cause such a painful, traumatic death, not only for the victims but for the ones who had to watch their loved ones die and wonder if they would be next.

But she'd checked that she'd deciphered the code correctly and knew that the answer was before her, whether it made her want to run and hide or not.

'We need hide this somewhere safe,' she said, collecting the pages from the envelope in one hand while her deciphering notes went in the other, 'and we need to burn this. I've memorised the information, so we can do it as soon as possible.'

He nodded, coming forward to take the pages from her hand, but she pulled back. 'Show me where you're hiding it,' she said before giving it to him. He grabbed the envelope from the counter in the kitchen before heading to the stairs of the loft. He ducked beneath them to climb them from the other side, teeth gritted as he hung from the last stair, reaching out to push a piece of wood aside. He slid the envelope in then brought the wood back into place, checking that it was secure before he dropped back to the ground.

She stared at him for a moment, nearly biting her lip as he came forward, remembering the glimpse of toned, sun kissed skin, wishing that she could just glimpse it again…

_Whoa there! _

She shook herself mentally, even as her mind tried to bring back the image, to savour it for a moment. She pulled her façade on, levelling her gaze, hoping that there was no emotion within her eyes.

'I will check that it's there later.'

'I'm not going to move it,' he promised. 'Not unless it's an emergency. We can't risk someone seeing it.'

She searched his gaze for another moment before giving a curt not. 'Let's burn this notepad. All of it. We can't have someone getting even a section of what I deciphered,' she said, searching around the bed to make sure all of the pages had been picked up before she grabbed the notepad. 'Have you got a metal bin?'

He nodded, going up to the loft again, not quite going to the top before he reached out and grabbed a small metal bin. He came down, walking past her to put it in the sink. 'I'll find some matches.'

'No need.' She reached into her bra, grabbing the small lighter she had concealed there. She dropped the pages in, pushing her sleeves up as she called, 'have any deodorant?'

'There's a can on top of the fridge, but if you want some I can call–' There was a small whoosh of flames as she sprayed the can over the pages, the lighter positioned at the nozzle. He let out a little breath, not bothering to finish his sentence as she set the can back on top of the fridge, tucking the lighter in her bra again.

'I'm afraid to ask what else you've got hidden in there that could be potentially dangerous,' he admitted.

'Not much,' she said, staring at the flames, watching to make sure every page was burning. 'I usually don't carry anything particularly dangerous,' she lied, thinking of the bracelet on her wrist as she pushed her sleeves back down to cover it. Satisfied that the notepad and its pages would soon turn to nothing but ash, she left the little kitchen, heading straight for the door.

Michael cut her off. 'Where are you going?'

'Out,' she said firmly, trying to step around him.

'You have a concussion,' he said, cutting her off again. 'You're not going anywhere until that headache is gone and I'm sure that you're okay.'

'I need to go get my gear and start to cut Thompson off from his contacts.'

'For all you know, your gear is bugged.'

'You think I don't destroy those stupid things before I leave on a job?' she asked. 'I've destroyed every bug and tracking device ever created when he's tried to put it in my gear. He can't find me when I don't want to be found, and trust me, he's tried.'

He stared at her for a moment. 'Fine. Tell me what your address is and I can go get it, but you need to stay here.'

She nearly laughed. 'Not on your life,' she said, pushing past him.

'Then I'm sorry.'

A hand wrapped around her wrist, another around her ankle. She was thrown into the air, body seemingly weightless for a moment before she landed on the bed, her mind aware of how glad she was that she'd had a soft landing until his body came down on top of hers, pinning her down.

She glared at him, tempted to bite his nose which was ever so close, focusing on that one desire to see his eyes water so she could fight the many others that made her body tingle with the awareness of the heat of his, the pressure of his weight as he used it against her sending a little thrill down her spine.

'Big mistake Michael,' she said, keeping her voice steady even as her mind swamped with images that had no place in her thoughts. She struggled against his hold, trying to get her arms free of the tight grip on her wrists. 'I'm going to kick your ass so hard you won't be able to sit down for a week.'

'And how are you going to do that?' he asked. 'Just listen to me, just for one moment Alexia. You need to rest for a bit or you'll be vulnerable, and if you get killed, then this won't be stopped and I'll never forgive myself.'

She paused her struggling for a moment, running his words through her head again, eventually deciding that he didn't want her to die for the simple fact that he believed he wouldn't be able to stop the virus on his own, though she didn't know why she'd even considered that it would be for some other reason.

'Either I'm going alone or going with you. You decide,' she said, staring at the pale blue, seeing the indecision within it. At the moment, he was the one with the upper hand, his strength too much against her injured body, but she wasn't going to let him see that she realised that.

He eased back a little, gently moving to sit beside her on the bed, allowing her to right herself. 'At least let me take a look at your shoulder, okay?' he said. 'We don't know if there's someone watching this place and if they decide to attack then you need to at least be in slightly better condition than you are at the moment.'

She looked to the ceiling for a moment, carefully flexing her shoulder, a sharp pain accompanying the movement. 'Fine,' she said, turning her back to him. She fingered the bracelet, ready to pull the vial out if she needed it. 'Just fix my shoulder. Don't try any funny business.'

'I'm not going to betray you, Alexia, whether you think so or not,' he said, brushing her hair over the opposite shoulder before he carefully probed the injured one. 'I know that pain far too well.'

She glanced back at him, seeing the calm expression he held as he gently massaged her. With every little flinch of pain she made, he would apologise before moving on from the spot, examining the sources of her discomfort in the muscles before he did what he could to ease the pain.

But the words were still just a promise, and in her world, they were easy to break.

'Do you want me to put something over the bruise?' he asked, still concentrating.

She nodded and he left her for a moment, rummaging around in one of the kitchen draws before he returned with a small tube of ointment. He stretched her shirt, pushing it aside to rub some over her skin, careful not to put to much pressure on the tender spot before he fixed her shirt.

'Roll your shoulder slowly,' he said, watching as she did so. She still felt pain, but no where near as bad as before, the flinch she usually did no longer accompanying the movement.

She stood up, moving away from him, checking her shoulder again.

'I'll just get my keys.'

'Where are my shoes?' she asked, glancing around to see if she could spot them.

'Over here,' he said, directing to his feet. He picked his car keys up from the bench, looping one of the rings over his finger as he waited.

She walked over, pulling them on quickly before she adjusted her sleeves again. She paused beside him as he opened to door, holding it for her. She looked up at him. 'Thank you,' she said.

Then she did something even she didn't understand.

* * *

Michael watched her walk down the steps to the Charger, frozen only to stare after her. He reached up, brushing his fingers over the place where she had kissed him, his cheek still tingling from the brief warmth of her lips.

A thank you he could deal with, but a kiss on the cheek when she was so careful of him confused the hell out of him. She was a cautious being, one who didn't trust those around her, so the action in which she had to move so very close to him to complete was very out of character for her from what he'd seen.

What else did Alexia Salazar have up her sleeve?

* * *

Hello readers of How It Burns.

I'll be overseas for the next 2 weeks so I won't be able to update until I get home.

I'll try to get on in on Tuesday the 8th of June, but the next chapter is more likely to be publised on Saturday the 12th.

Sorry it will be so long, but I hope you will keep reading when I return.

~ Ryuk In Person ~


	10. Tension

TENSION

Alexia didn't speak but to give directions, her mind whirling like a hurricane as she stared out of the window at the cars that passed, racing in the opposite direction along the streets of Miami. She wasn't really focused on those cars though, on all the various makes and models. She was watching Michael in the reflection of the window and the side mirror, angled just enough for her to see his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel, his jaw set in a relaxed position as he concentrated on the road. Well, she assumed that he was concentrating on the road, but with the cognac lenses of the sunglasses that sat so very perfectly on him, it was difficult to tell.

He hadn't spoken to her since they'd left the loft except to offer quick sounds to assure her that he was listening to the directions that she gave. It was strange. He had been so chatty, well, at least he seemed to be, but she did have to admit that she must have stunned him. After all, she had stunned herself even more.

She still didn't understand why she'd kissed him, even if just on the cheek in a brief gesture of thanks. It was so against her nature, her careful, calculative and quite frankly cunning nature for her to get so close without taking even a moment to assess the dangers of such an action. She'd still done it though, and on a whim that she could for just a moment trust a man that she barely knew, a man that she had believed was the only one that she would ever fear.

She thought that he must have believed her to be insane, switching so quickly after keeping her distance and avoiding contact, only accepting her offer to try and fix her shoulder when it became the difference between her accompanying him to her apartment and being most likely tied down somewhere so she couldn't escape in the loft.

Not that ropes could stop her.

'Turn left,' she said, still facing the window. 'Then a quick right and pull into the car park of the first building that you see on the right.'

He did as she told without a word or even a moment of recognition, the Charger purring into the darkness of the lot beneath the concrete block of the six story rise, the boring façade drawing no attention. It could, after all, house anything, and it was surrounded by a couple of flashier hotels, locking it into the back of the block out of view.

He pulled up in a park between some of the lights that offered only the slightest illumination, the Charger blending with the darkness. It was an apartment building, though one going slowly out of business with no advertising scheme to boost its popularity and the surrounding buildings appearing far more attractive. It was cheap though, and far more comfortable than many of the places that she had stayed in. Considering how little time she spent in the apartment, it didn't really matter how comfortable it was when it was merely a place to sleep.

She hopped out of the car, closing the door behind her, instantly moving to the door to the stairs. She wasn't going to wait for Michael in fear that he would ask her about her actions, because there was no explanation that she could offer to account for them.

She made it to her floor and to her room, closing the door behind her before Michael had even reached the top of the stairs. She leant against the solid wood, hearing him grumbling with displeasure at her actions from the other side.

'Alexia,' he called, leaning against the door. 'Why won't you let me in?'

'Because you don't need to be in here,' she said, moving away from the door even as he tried to argue. She passed the couch, heading straight for her room and the closet. The dust hat that had collected still remained, reassuring her that no one had been searching her apartment.

She collected her netbook and the other papers within the hidden section of the closet, placing them into a bag. She secured the panels once she had everything that she needed, pausing for a moment before she headed for the door, taking a breath before she opened it. She stepped to the side just in time, watching as Michael fell forward, eyes wide as he lost his leaning place. He landed hard with an 'oompf,' losing his breath, but somehow he managed to pick himself up gracefully, quickly straightening his shirt and sunglasses as if he'd just come in from a windy day rather than having fallen on his face.

'Okay?' she asked.

'Ahmm,' he cleared his throat. 'Yeah, fine. Aren't you bringing any clothes?' he asked, changing the topic before he reached up to scratch the tip of his nose, eventually giving up and rubbing it, realising that she knew that it must have hurt.

'Why?' she said. 'I'm not going to stay at your loft when I have this perfectly good apartment.'

'But you've suffered a–'

'Concussion, yes, I know. Nothing I can't handle.'

'There's also the fact that we need to deal with this and deal with it quickly. I'm not letting you disappear tonight to try and make a stand on your own. It's too dangerous, whether you think you know this guy or not.'

'I do know him.'

'Judging by the trick he pulled last night, you don't. Not as well as you think.'

She stared at him for a moment. 'Surely you realise I'm not good at this working together thing. I don't trust you Michael and it would take a number of years before even the most basic trust could start to build between us, so give up. I can handle this and I will handle this because I should have done so a very long time ago. I have all the information I need from the envelope stored up here anyway,' she said, tapping her head. 'If you can't deal with it, I suggest you leave.'

She held the door further open, directing him out with her hand. He moved her aside, slamming the door to step in front of her, blocking off the exit. He reached up, taking his sunglasses off to meet her gaze, the pale blue as hard set as his jaw.

He put his sunglasses on the table beside the entrance, crossing his arms over his chest. 'No.'

She stared straight back at him. 'No to what?'

'To everything. To your trust issues and to your lone ranger crap. This is not something you should deal with on your own, physically or mentally, because it's too big for anyone to deal with, especially if something goes wrong.'

'I'm not going to let–'

'Just listen to me,' he said, stepping forward, toe to toe with her. He grabbed her shoulders, still gentle with her, knowing that she was injured. 'I don't know how you grew up or what's happened to make you like you are, but you're not the only one who has been through hell and back a hundred times in your life.'

'And what am I like Michael?' she asked. 'Who do you think I am?'

He let out a breath, hands moving down her arms. He took a step back, turning away for a moment. He ran his hands down his face, meeting her gaze again. 'After I saw you at my mum's house I spent days looking for anything that I could find on you, running on my memory and three flimsy sheets of paper in an attempt to work out something, anything, about you.'

'And?'

'One of your aliases is Mia Landlaw. You spent some time in London infiltrating the four's trust and then neutralising them. Recently, you befriended my mum. You own a red 1969 Corvette, you have green eyes, brown hair and you were nearly killed whilst getting an envelope for your handler which contains information on a modified strand of Ebola,' he said, the pale blue holding her, 'and, you may or may not be the Shadow Viper, the only person in the spy community that I shouldn't trust because you simply can't exist, but can't seem to allow myself to leave for fear that something will happen to you.'

She held her façade even as she felt the stab of his words, each more painful than the last. Yet there was nothing else that she could do but stand and stare at him, hearing everything in his words. He knew who she was and was willing to help her even though he knew all of the danger that surrounded her, all of the secrets and seeming impossibility of the lack of existence of Alexia Salazar, the woman behind the Shadow Viper alias.

'You're right,' she said, holding back her emotions. 'I don't trust. I don't work well with people because I've never had to. All of my interaction with people is false because I never learned anything different. It's only been in recent months that I've finally managed to have a conversation that didn't involve weaponry or tactics, that I've realised that the pains and turns and twists inside me are what real emotions feel like and that I can feel at all without faking it. You think you've got it bad with your burn notice? With your deadbeat father and your mother and brother who love you? At least you had them. At least you didn't grow up in the dark, learning exactly what it was like to live like a spy before you were old enough to be one, to wait in the shadows and hope that you would make it through another night just to live through another day of nothing, because that's all I am; nothing. Nothing except for what I do and who I become, and right now I need to take down Thompson and to do so, I must become the thing that he fears most.'

'And what is that? He knows you already, knows how you work and other details that he can use to take you down, so what more can he fear that you can become?'

She allowed a small, empty smile to pick up her lips as she brought her arm up, pulling the sleeve down enough to reveal the bracelet that held that tiny vial. She looked at it, a certain fondness in her gaze. 'I can become the very poison that he fears will take his last heartbeat every second of every day. He has no idea just how frightening I can be,' she said, lingering on it for a moment before she looked to him again. 'Neither do you.'

He came forward, turning her, backing her into the wall beside the door. He rested his hands beside each side of her head, boxing her in as he leant close, invading the personal space that he knew that she valued. He locked onto the bright green of her eyes, his nose barely a breath away from hers, her heartbeat racing as she felt the warmth of his skin radiating so close. 'Show me,' he whispered, the heat of his breath tickling her lips. 'Show me how dangerous you are.'

She could have made him back down, landed a solid crack on his ribs, but she was frozen, her mind whirling with the sudden turn of the situation. He was so close, invading the space that he had been so careful to avoid entering before. He knew how to affect her even though he admitted that he knew so little about her. He was becoming just as dangerous as he believed her to be.

'Come on, Alexia,' he whispered, a little more forceful as he pushed forward, lips grazing her ear, 'show me.'

* * *

_Next update: Wednesday 16th of June_

From now on, How It Burns will be updated every Wednesday and Saturday unless a change is noted in the most recent chapter due to travel or other events that may stop me from writing, though a change is very unlikely before the completion of this fan fiction.

I hope you're still enjoying How It Burns.

~ Ryuk In Person ~


	11. Fighting Instincts

FIGHTING INSTINCTS

Alexia felt her chest constricting as her mind ceased to give her the ideas that usually came so fast, but still her instinct remained. Her hand reached upward, gently brushing the backs of her knuckles along her jaw. She watched as his eyes flickered closed, even as he tried to keep them open, to watch her every move as her fingers reached to coil into his hair. She pulled his head back gently, playing innocent as she repeated his actions, trailing her lips over his ear.

'Oh Michael,' she whispered, letting her breath send shivers down her spine, 'surely being burned taught you not to play with fire.'

She pulled his head back hard, twisting to slip beneath his arm. She pinned him against the wall, his arms wrapped around him as though a straightjacket was hugging him tight. She reached around her back, pulling a butterfly knife from beneath her bra. She flicked it open, holding the blade against the soft skin of his neck. He never once flinched though. He only showed a hint of surprise as he found his cheek pressed against the wall, the situation turned against him.

A little smirk came over his lips, the pale blue of his eyes only showing something of a playful note as he looked back at her as best as he could. 'That's a lesson I could never really grasp,' he admitted.

He pushed back, twisting free of her grip, feeling the burn of the blade as it nicked his skin. He ignored it, grasping both of her wrists once he'd knocked the blade from her hand, sending it sliding across the floor. He felt the bracelet that hid the vial pressing into his palm as he gripped tight, though not too tight in fear he might break it. He didn't know how the poison worked, whether it had to be swallowed, inhaled or even absorbed into the skin. He couldn't risk breaking it.

But his concern was his mistake, giving Alexia enough time to force his arms down so that she could grip his wrists in return before she dropped to slide between his legs, bending him over until she could run her arms along the floor to sweep against his ankles, unbalancing him. She sat up, pulling him through his fall so that he would not land on his head. She was fighting him, but not to cause pain, simply to make her point. He had to understand that she was stronger than he thought, that a concussion was nothing to some of the injuries that she'd endured and that she was not the damsel in distress that a sweet, chivalrous but quite frankly silly part of him believed she was.

She heard his breath expel in a rush as he landed hard on the floorboards, a cough rocking his body as she stood, free from his grip now. She landed a solid kick on his upper thigh. Though many might believe it would be wrong to kick a man when he's down, she'd always ignored that rule. There's no real way to test if they're faking unconsciousness or the inability to continue a fight, so even though she was evenly matched with Michael, she was going to make sure he wouldn't be getting up straight away.

Yet she still avoided his side and ribs, not wanting to break, only to bruise at the most. After all, bruises would easily fade and heal. A break would take time to mend and they were already running out of time.

She stepped back, giving him a moment to catch his breath. He sat up, straightening his shirt, one hand gripping his thigh were a bruise would now be forming as the other went to rub the back of his head and neck. He grimaced for a moment, eyes squeezed tight as he brought himself to his feet, stretching to crack his back. After his solid landing, he was probably very aware of his spine, a second grimace confirming it as he tested his movement, but it was all just the impact and the chance that he would bruise was minimal. He rolled his head on his shoulders, daring a step forward.

Alexia reached to her wrist, pulling the little vial out before he could even consider another advance, balancing it on the tip of her finger. 'You think – hell you know that I'm the Shadow Viper – yet you're still willing to approach me,' she said, flicking it into the air again and again, watching Michael's gaze dart from her to the vial as it sailed high. She knew that he believed she would drop it. It was, after all, probably the tiniest vial he had ever seen and she wasn't even looking at it. She knew she didn't look concerned either, despite how fragile it was, because she also knew that it was safe and could not be dropped. Like many, he was so focused on the vial and the poison that lay within that he could not see the thread that anchored it to her wrist, keeping it from getting away from her.

Besides, she had never dropped it before and never would.

She caught it, balancing it on the tip of her finger once again. 'Tell me what it's going to be Michael. You either give me my space and understand that you will not gain my trust easily or I show you just how much more dangerous this is going to get.'

'You wouldn't,' he said, pale blue narrowing, though still he glanced to the vial.

'And how do you know that?' she asked.

'Because I know that you don't want me dead. I know that you don't kill unless you have to.'

'You assume that Michael.'

'I see it, Alexia,' he said, voice softer than before. He was inching forward, though he dared not take a full step, not until he further tested the boundaries. 'I've been in this business long enough to be able to recognise when an operative is too far gone, and I know that you're not.'

'You also know that I can fake emotion, so who are you going to trust? You and your sight, or me, the one holding the vial, prepared to use it.'

'But why? I'm not going to hurt you, whether you believe me or not,' he said, stopping even his small progress forward to stare at her. 'We need to work together on this because we'll be faster as a team, especially with Fi and Sam behind us as well.'

'I don't know them.'

'Well you've met Sam, and I know you liked him,' he nearly snapped, 'and Fi, well you've got a lot to be grateful to her for, so don't you dare even try to make it seem as if she's one of the bad guys in this situation, because the only person that shouldn't be trusted is you.'

And the worst part?

He was right.

She dropped her hand, expertly tucking the tiny vial back into the bracelet beneath her sleeve, making sure it was covered as she felt the aching twist of an emotion she was getting very well acquainted with at every turn.

Guilt.

Michael watched her for a moment. He turned on his heel, grabbing his sunglasses to slide them back on, shielding his eyes from view. 'Go grab some overnight stuff,' he said, going to the door. 'We'll come back and get the rest tomorrow.'

It slammed behind him, leaving her to stand alone in the room, barely any sunlight managing to creep in through the windows, the surrounding buildings shrouding it in darkness. She stared at the wood for a moment, listening as he leant against the door on the other side before she headed back to the room. She stuffed some clothes into the bag with her netbook and papers, stopping as she stared at her leather coat. Despite the situation that had occurred, she couldn't help but smile at it, remembering the way Michael had brought it to her.

She was being a bitch and she knew it, knew that the words that had already been said could not be taken back, but they could be apologised for. She shrugged it on, feeling a little better as the leather hugged her body, heavy and comforting on her shoulders.

She picked up her things, heading for the door. She was about to pull it open, but this time decided to knock, warning Michael to move before she opened it. He still had his sunglasses on, the cognac lenses keeping her from seeing the real emotions in his eyes. She stood there in the doorway for a moment, taking a steadying breath, but before she could speak, he was walking.

'Wait,' she said, grabbing his wrist, touch light.

He paused, looking back, but from behind the lenses she had no idea if he were looking at her. 'Did you forget something?' he asked.

She shook her head. 'No, I just...' Again she shook her head, trying to clear it. 'I'm sorry Michael. I know you just want to help me, and I'm thankful for that, but my guard is always up and I don't remember the last time I forced it down, so please, be patient. Just for a little while until I can get my head around the fact that someone actually wants to help me and not kill me.'

He stared at her for a moment; at least, she thought he did. He reached up, taking his sunglasses off to perch them on top of his head, showing her the pale blue that she wanted to see.

'I'm not sure that I can be,' he admitted, stepping forward again. He reached up, fingers lightly tracing her cheek, her jaw, coming to rest on her chin to lift her gaze to his. 'But...'

'But what?' Alexia wondered if he were merely testing her, trying to get her used to the invasion of personal space, but there was something within the pale blue that made her second guess herself as he edged ever so slightly closer.

He smiled that charming smile and she withheld a shiver as he whispered, voice low, hot breath caressing her lips.

'I'll try.'

* * *

With just two words, her world was altered. This was not the Michael Westen she feared, the operative that even a burn notice could not defeat. This was Michael Westen, the man who had protected her, saved her. A man with emotions, needs.

Desires.

After his advances in the apartment, the ones she had believed were just a test, the logical voice in her head told her to back away and to do it quick, knowing that if she acted on her more feminine instincts, the ones telling her to snog the hell out of him, there could be some serious problems.

So why was she edging closer?

She felt his hand slide down her arm, the caress of the leather raising gooseflesh on her skin as he dipped his head, his cheek pressed to hers as his lips came to her ear again.

'Why are you doing this, Michael?' she asked, unable to recognise the wavering in her voice as his other hand came to her hip.

He was silent for a moment. 'I don't know,' he whispered, and she knew that he wasn't lying. 'It feels so wrong, like I know that the boundaries that I'm crossing shouldn't be crossed, but after–'

'Our fight,' she finished, daring to grip his shoulders as he pressed himself close, her bag forgotten on the ground. 'You don't mean...?'

'I think I do,' he said, afraid that at any second she would push him away, but she only pulled him closer, nails biting into his back. 'The way you fight is like a dance though admittedly a very violent, painful dance for me, but amazing none the less.'

'I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not,' she breathed.

'It is,' he said, pressing her back against the wall of the corridor, still stunned by his actions, the fact that it didn't even feel as if he were doing them, as if his body had bypassed his mind, acting without his consent.

Well, not that his body didn't have it...

'Michael,' she said, garnering his attention, distracting him from his thoughts, 'either back off or kiss me now.'

As if backing off was an option.

* * *

_Next update: Saturday 19th of June_


	12. Interruptions

INTERRUPTIONS

Michael didn't know what he was doing, why the logical part of his mind – the part that always gave him simple _logic_ – was now squashed into the back corner of his mind, ignored by the rest of his thoughts that screamed at him to close that gap, that breath of air that was the only boundary between them.

And god he wanted to, needed to feel the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath that radiated so softly from the part between them making him desperate. Combined with the bite of her nails in his back he was descending into insanity, his desire to have them raking slowly down his spine increasing with every little change in pressure as she pulled him close.

'Michael,' Alexia breathed, pressing as close as his grip would allow, arching away from the wall. She reached up, fingers entwining in his hair, but still the gap remained.

They wanted it. They needed it. Neither seemed to be able to close that gap though, as if doing so would change something that they could not grasp, as if there were some unwritten law against it.

Thankfully, Alexia had never been very good at following rules.

She pulled him close, nearly sighing as their lips finally met, his kiss demanding as his body followed every inch of hers, trapping her as he stole her breath, seeming intent of devouring her. He was still careful in his touch though; a true gentleman as his hands remained within polite boundaries on her arms, her sides and her hips.

It was sweet, but she didn't want the gentleman that he was intent on being. She wanted the operative with strength and power. But more than that, she just wanted him, Michael Westen, because he was just a man. A real honest to god man who could take care of her, a real honest to god woman, even if just for a night.

Or a day.

'The door to my apartment is still open,' she finally managed to say, breathless when they broke apart, though each refused to relinquish their grip on the other.

In seconds she was in his arm, quite literally swept off of her feet as he carried her back through, kicking her bag in front of them, luck having it that she'd surrounded her laptop with clothes. With a quick back kick the door slammed shut, his sunglasses thrown straight back onto the table beside the entrance before he dropped her onto the couch, following her down. He climbed up her body, shoulders rolling like a predator on the hunt. His lips descended on her neck to place kisses along her skin, teeth nipping all the spots that made her breath hitch as he forced her coat from her shoulders, warm hands pushing her shirt as far aside as he could.

His attentions continued over every inch he exposed, but when he reached her injured shoulder, he changed. The bites ceased to be, replaced by gentle, feather light kisses as though he could will away the pain or even the very injury. The unexpected swings in his behaviour made him seem somehow wild, most likely the effects of so many years as a spy, but it was that very randomness, the lack predictability that he had that made her warm to him despite all of the issues that she harboured.

And that made her realise one, frightening, spine tingling, fantastically beautiful truth: if she wasn't careful, she could fall for this man.

Not that she could dwell on those thoughts, not when his lips finally claimed hers, the kiss only losing some of the tenderness that he had exhibited on her shoulder, becoming more searching as he explored the sweetest taste of her, one he never wanted to end. There was one problem though, one thing that she didn't want him to discover, not with a kiss, and if she wasn't careful he would realise that something wasn't right, something about her kiss.

Something he had already realised.

It was…subdued, as though she were afraid of it, unsure of the very actions, but even if her lips were hesitant, the rest of her body told him that she was not. She was well aware of herself, despite her belief that it was only recently that she started to truly feel emotions. He had seen her when she was taking down the four, knew that although she faked her interaction, there were real emotions within and that there always had been.

So why is it that she'd felt so empty?

Michael cursed as he sliced his tongue on something. He sat back, relieved when he didn't taste blood, but perplexed none the less. He quirked an eyebrow at her, watching a light blush colour her cheeks.

'You're not a vampire or something, are you?' he asked, unable to think of anything else other than teeth that could have nearly cut his tongue.

'No, but I do have a set of…' her blush darkened a shade. 'Never mind.'

'What the hell was that?' he asked, resisting the urge to pry her jaws open and investigate, knowing that it she would probably not take it lightly. He was already battered and bruised. He didn't want his fingers bitten off.

'Earlier, I could have poisoned you,' she said, seeming to dodge the question.

'But you wouldn't–'

'But if I had, I wouldn't have let you die. I just would have let you feel the affects of the poison so that you understood just how dangerous I can be when I have to,' she said, sitting up, still straddled by him and hoping he wouldn't dare move.

'How?'

She reached into the top of her mouth, a finger on either side of her upper molars. He heard a strange click, another following before she pulled something from the roof of her mouth. For a moment he believed it was a retainer – it certainly looked like one – and he wondered how in the hell it would have helped save him from the affects of the poison.

Death.

It was clear though, thicker than any retainer her had seen, and as she pulled it out, placing it on her flattened palm, he realised that something was moving within, a clear liquid sloshing ever so slightly with her every move.

'Is that…?

'The antidote,' she finished, looking up at him as he looked down at the perfectly formed vial, fitted exactly as a retainer, though the system to lock it onto her teeth was far more intricate. He certainly understood how he could have caught his tongue on that.

He looked a little closer. 'How do you stand wearing it?'

She shrugged, reaching into the pocket of her coat to pull a container – a retainer container – from it. 'It's not as sharp as it looks. I guess I just got used to it,' she said as she placed the strangely yet rather ingeniously shaped vial within. She tucked it back into the pocket of her coat before she shed the heavy leather, hanging it on the back of the couch. She looked up at him, feeling a little better that he knew about it. She smiled. 'Somehow I think I'm better off keeping it out at the moment.'

He couldn't help but match her smile, feeling a warmth spread as his convictions of her – the fact that she never planned on poisoning him, or at least, never planned to let the poison kill him – had been validated.

He moved to kiss her again, pushing her back onto the couch with his body. Her arms came around his neck, fingers entwining into his hair, her nails scraping lightly over his scalp. He felt that same anticipation building, far stronger than the last time as he neared, lips so close.

Michael cursed colourfully when his phone rang, vibrating impatiently in his pocket. He leant forward, claiming her lips for a far too brief moment before he pulled back and dug in the front pocket of his jeans to retrieve the ringing object. For a moment he stared at the caller ID, very seriously considering throwing the phone at the nearest wall or out the nearest window, but he never knew what calls could be important.

The person on the other end of the line, well, their life depended on his trust that it would be.

He connected. 'What?'

'Geez, Mikey. What's with the snarl?'

'Sorry Sam, but you're sort of interrupting something,' he said, glancing down to Alexia, showing with just one look how much he still wanted to throw the phone away.

'I thought I should just ask if you were home.'

'Why? What is it?'

'Oh, I thought you might just like to know that there are some guys with guns ransacking your loft, but if I'm interrupting something, maybe some other time.'

Michael shot up. 'What? How long have they been there?'

'Well I got here five minutes ago and they had just pulled up.'

'We'll be there soon.'

He didn't wait for a reply, merely snapped the phone shut and held his hand out to Alexia, knowing she had heard the other end of the conversation.

'Grab your coat,' he said and she took his outstretched hand. She pulled her coat on, snatched up her bag and followed him to the door, slamming it behind her.

They ran back down to the car park, jumping into the Charger to speed out of the lot beneath the building, a tense silence settling over them.

'We must have been followed last night,' Michael finally said, jaw set as he weaved through the heavy Miami traffic.

'This is my fault,' she said, running her hands over her face. 'I'll pay for any–'

'There's not much in there to damage,' he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. 'Let's just concentrate on getting there and then getting in.'

'You think they'll still be there when we arrive?'

'I doubt it,' he admitted. 'There's not much in there except for a fridge full of yoghurt and beer and some exercise equipment.'

'You don't think they'd find the envelope.'

He shook his head, confident. 'That's the best hiding spot there is. It took Fi and hour to locate it, and she always knows where I hide things. There is no way that they could have found it, not even if there were ten of them.'

She nodded, pursing her lips for a moment. 'And if there are ten of them when we get there?'

'We'll wait til they finally give up and leave. We couldn't risk anyone getting hurt.' He glanced to her, reaching up to lightly run his fingers through her hair, careful no to disturb the stiches.

She glanced down, feeling a little flush of colour in her cheeks. She didn't understand why he was having such a strong affect on her, but she didn't want to dwell on it. She looked straight ahead, watching as they passed over familiar streets, heading back to his loft.

'And if there are only three or even five?' she asked.

He kept his eyes ahead, but she saw his jaw tighten. 'We go in and ask them why they thought it would be appropriate to turn up uninvited.'

She felt the impression of the butterfly knife in her back, tucked beneath her bra but oh so very easily accessible. That definitely sounded like a plan.

They stopped half a block away from the loft and Michael pulled out his phone, dialling Sam. His friend picked up on the first ring.

'They're still in there Mike,' he said.

'Do you know how many there are?'

'Four, but they're all massive guys.'

'Did they see you pull up?'

'No, they were too focused on getting through the gate.'

'We're coming up the street.'

Michael threw his door open, hanging up as he climbed out of the car. Alexia followed, coming to the front of the car as he stopped, pulling his sunglasses off. 'Put these on,' he said, but he didn't wait. In seconds she was seeing in cognac as he pushed her coat from her shoulders. 'Have a light jumper in that bag of yours?'

'Yes,' she said, realising his intention, knowing that he was trying to disguise her. After all, if even one of the men from the alleyway was inside the loft, they could look outside and recognise her. 'What if they recognise you though?'

'They didn't get a look at me before I knocked them out,' he promised, waiting as she rummaged through her bag for a light jumper. She pulled it on, careful of the sunglasses.

'What's your plan then?'

'Well it's just such a lovely day,' he said, taking her hand, fingers weaving with hers. That charming smile crossed his lips. 'I thought we might go for a stroll in beautiful Miami.'

* * *

_Next update: Wednesday the 23rd of June_

Advanced warning:

My annual seniors ball is on next Saturday night (the 26th of June), so chapter 14 may not be up until Sunday, Monday at the very latest.

Very sorry if that's the case, but I will make it an extra half a chapter if it that really is the case.

As always, I love hearing from readers. Thanks for all of the comments.

~ Ryuk In Person ~


	13. Distraction

DISTRACTION

Her heart skipped more than a beat.

Alexia had never really held hands with someone, not like this, but she had to pretend everything was okay, that she could deal with this sudden, all too pleasant feeling of warmth as his hand gripped hers. It was not familiar, nor did it feel entirely right, but maybe that was just her head telling her that.

They walked down the street casually, looking around as though taking in the sights of a normal Miami street, pausing briefly by the nightclub beneath his loft as though curious of its hours before they headed over to Sam's car and climbed in.

There was no pretence after that. Michael simply held out his hand to Sam, accepting the gun that was passed to him. He quickly checked it and then handed it to Alexia, not noticing the displeased look that crossed her face as she reluctantly accepted it. He was too busy receiving another weapon for himself.

'How do you want to do this Mike?' Sam asked as he checked his own, making Alexia wonder where he had stashed all of the weapons.

'I say we sneak up onto the balcony. Either that or go around on the back and come through the top of the loft. It will give us cover and the advantage of surprise.'

'Good idea,' Alexia said, tucking the gun into the back of her jeans once she knew that the safety was on, trying to ignore the very existence of the cold metal. She put the sunglasses on top of her head before she reached to pull her sleeves down, making sure that the bracelet was covered.

She cursed.

'What is it?' Michael asked, turning in his seat to look at her.

'I left the antidote in my coat,' she said. 'I took it out before Sam called.'

'Took what out?'

They shared a quick glance before they looked to Sam, knowing they'd have to offer some sort of explanation. 'You know how I thought she was the Shadow Viper?' Michael asked, a little faster than Alexia, knowing what he had already passed onto Sam.

'Yeah, you've been tossing that idea around since you saw her at Madeline's.'

'Well, I am,' Alexia said, leaning between the two seats.

Sam looked at her, serious. All of the playfulness that usually lit up his eyes was gone, replaced by the hardened gaze of an ex Navy SEAL. It seemed so at odds with his appearance, the Hawaiian shirt and comfy linen pants, a pinky ring shining bright on his finger.

Somehow he managed an even more startling change.

He laughed. Heartily.

'What?' she asked, confused by his reaction, unsure of which to take seriously.

He wiped a tear from his eye, catching his breath as he saw the stare that Michael levelled at him. His smile dropped and he glanced to Alexia and back. 'What?' he said, glancing at her again, seeing only the slight woman that Michael had carried unconscious in his arms. 'You expect me to believe that she's the Shadow Viper?'

'Fi is an ex IRA operative and a trigger happy arms dealer. How can you not believe that A–' he paused, clearing his throat, 'that Mia is the Shadow Viper?'

'Because from what you've told me about her she's a hell of a lot scarier than Fi,' he said. He pointed at Alexia. 'There's no way that she is scarier than Fi.'

As if she could let that lie.

Alexia reached around her back, arm around the chair to press the blade to Sam's neck. She watched him attempt to look down to the butterfly knife, a smile on his lips, but she saw sweat dampen his brow.

'That's not even the deadliest trick she's got up her sleeve,' Michael said, not at all concerned by the blade at his friend's throat. He knew that Alexia was merely trying to make a point, to show Sam that there was much, much more danger in the little package sitting in the seat behind him. It was something he needed to learn or he'd end up on his ass.

Like he had.

Michael felt a little smile curve his lips – and the smallest spark of displeasure at the man who had interrupted – at the reminder of their little fight before, one that had ended so well. He could still taste her lips, feel them caressing his as her hands trailed slowly, painfully slowly, over his body, her nails raking his skin through his shirt. More maddening were those little gasps and moans that he had coaxed from her lips, the sounds of her desire still sending heat roaring through his veins.

He snapped himself out of his daydreaming, knowing that it could wait but wishing that he were still in that apartment of hers, away from all of this trouble and in her arms, even it could only be for a little while, because when he had held her, kissed her, she had finally opened up to him, had let him into her world where she was simply a woman. Not a spy, not a girl who had been through hell and back throughout her life.

Not the Shadow Viper.

Just a woman who needed to be shown what it was like to be just a woman.

But it seemed there would be no time, not when they were being hunted for the information that had nearly ended her life.

'So you have a few tricks up your sleeve,' Sam said, not daring to move an inch. 'That doesn't make you the Shadow Viper.'

'Tell me, Sam, what do you know about the Shadow Viper?' she asked, voice quite, breath just brushing over his ear. He would not shiver though, not with the blade pressed so tight to his throat. 'When required, how do they usually harm or kill?'

'Poison.'

'Just one?'

He nearly shook his head. 'No,' he said, eyes darting to the blade again. 'They use different poisons for different jobs, depending on what is needed. Mostly just incapacitation, but sometimes fast working kills.'

She let his words sink in within himself.

'When she took out the four, I had only been out of the room for five minutes, at most, and she they were dead, most having only taken small sips of their drinks,' Michael said. 'Suddenly my job was both easier and harder.'

'That was one time Mikey,' Sam said, far too stubborn to accept truth. 'You could have poisoned them if you'd chosen to.'

'But my poison would have been traced. Hers could not be, not in the drinks, on the glasses, not even in the body except for their sudden, joint death with the same symptoms.'

'Come on Mike,' Sam said. 'You can't really believe all this.'

'I've seen the poison, Sam. I've see the antidote and how she hides each so carefully. I mean, I wouldn't have noticed the poison without her showing me, and the antidote, well the only reason I–' He snapped his mouth shut, searching for better words, deciding that Sam did not need to know what he'd interrupted, at least, not for now. 'Well, that was just by chance.'

Their gazes locked for a moment, Sam searching for the truth while Michael willed him to believe it. They stayed, unmoving until Sam finally exhaled a breath. 'Okay, I believe you.' He glanced back to Alexia. 'Can you put the knife away so we can focus on the bad guys?'

She flicked it closed, tucking it back beneath her bra, glad that he believed them. She didn't want to show him the hiding place for her poison. That she'd showed Michael was certainly bad enough, but it didn't feel that way. Alexia felt as if it had been the right thing to do, even if it hadn't scared him as she had intended. It was the same with the antidote. No one even knew that she had antidotes for her poisons, not even Thompson who had repeatedly seen the little vial, though he never knew exactly where it was hidden.

Suddenly she was glad that she'd never really trusted him, handler or not.

'The best way to get into your loft is through the roof?' she said, making them all refocus on the situation, the men still moving around in Michael's loft, most likely trashing it.

She would pay for the damage and she would not take no for an answer.

'Yes. It's difficult though, especially seeing as the best way to come through the roof is by going through the water and then scaling the building before dropping through onto the second floor.

'The loft in the loft,' Sam clarified, shifting in his seat so he could see both of them. 'May I suggest you spritely young ones go that way and I'll take the more direct approach?'

'I doubt they will take the ask questions first, shoot later approach Sam,' Michael said, and Alexia watched the small smile on his lips, so much in contrast to the deep concern that she could see in his eyes.

'Well I'll come in from there once you come in from the roof.'

'If we're splitting up, why don't we really surprise them and attack from different sides, Michael from the roof, Sam from the balcony and myself from the front door.'

'Why do I have to climb up to the balcony?'

'Because if you knock on the front door, they're just going to shoot you,' she said, glancing up and down, eyes lingering on his grey hair and Hawaiian shirt. 'If I knock on the door…' She reached back again, pulling her butterfly knife out as she unzipped her jacket light jacket. Sam flinched as though she might press the blade to his throat again, but instead she cut a line down the front of her top, just far enough to push the collar further aside, revealing an ample amount of cleavage. 'Well, let's just say they are more likely to be distracted.'

* * *

Michael forced his eyes up, a string of curses flying through his head as they darted down again, following each of the soft curves. He clenched his fists on his thighs, thoughts wandering straight to the idea of climbing into the back seat of the car to continue what he had started earlier.

'Well Mikey, I believe we have something of a plan.'

He snapped his head up, glad for Sam's interruption in his thoughts, if only for the moment. He had to focus, remember exactly what he was here to do which was to stop the idiots in his house from getting out without answering a few questions, _not_ daydream of Alexia and all of the oh so many things he thought they could better be using their time for…

'Let's go,' he said, looking up to the loft. He could still see movement inside, but none at the window, so he climbed out. He jogged to the gate, sticking close to the wall, out of sight as he ran to the water. After waiting a moment, giving him time to get through the water and start his climb up the building, Alexia perched the sunglasses back on her nose, a hair band appearing from seemingly no where. She pulled all of her deep chestnut hair back, tying it in a tight pony-tail before she stepped out of the car. Sam walked with her, keeping just a little distance, though she could feel that it wasn't normal for him. She could sense that he wanted to talk to her, but at least he recognised that now was not the time.

They split up; her heading for the stairs to the door, him for an access point to the balcony. She had no idea where he was going to climb up, but knew that he wasn't as out of the game as he made out to be.

She climbed the stairs casually, acting as if she was coming in from a walk rolling her head on her neck and stretching her arms, though really she was preparing for a fight.

She hoped that if they were the same men from last night – though she doubted it by the one hit knock out that Michael had handed down to them – that they would not recognise her behind the cognac lenses, her hair altering her appearance significantly as well as the casual clothes she wore, nothing like her usual clothes. She already missed her coat but knew that it was too recognisable for anyone who might be looking out for her.

She reached the top, taking a breath before she knocked sharply. She waited, hearing only silence in the loft, before harsh whispers drifted through a small crack in the window beside the door, though she could not make out what was being said.

After a few more moments, the door swung open, the man on the other side of the threshold wearing all black, brow drawn, though she had to admit that even with the stern expression, he was quite a looker.

_Not as gorgeous as–_

She cut her thoughts of, forcing herself to watch as his expression softened when he looked down at her and the smile on her lips, his eyes travelling lower, just as she'd expected. No, he wasn't one of the men from last night, but he was just as large as them, broad chest stretching his shirt as he folded his arms over it.

'I'm sorry, this isn't really a good time,' he said, trying to block her view into the room, though he was too late. She'd already seen the other three men, all trying to act normal despite the state of the loft. She hid a grin behind her smile as she remembered each of the faces, all new to her.

'Oh, don't be so silly,' she said, dropping the sunglasses down to wink at him. She saw the little familiar softening in his gaze as she pushed the sunglasses up, putting a little extra batting into her eyelashes as she looked up at him. 'I mean, such as strong man like yourself could never have a bad time.'

She nearly gagged as she saw the wicked smile come over his lips, knowing exactly what he was thinking, but she pressed on, knowing that she was going to hate herself for the words that were about to roll from her lips. She dropped her tone, adding just that little bit of breathlessness as she leaned in. 'Why don't you let me in so I can show you a good time, you big, bad man.'

He was fighting his urges, but she knew he was failing when she saw him lean a little closer.

She reached behind her back, gripping the gun. She smirked at him as she levelled it at his groin, putting just enough pressure to let him assume that she was just being…_forward_ with him, watching the little grin cross his lips.

'Walk backwards for me,' she whispered, nearly laughing when he glanced down, eyes wide. He prepared to strike but she cocked the weapon, reaching back to pull out her butterfly knife, pressing it against his neck.

She backed him up, the others reaching to draw their weapons, but Sam kicked open the balcony doors, drawing their attention, Michael's entrance from above startling them even more as their eyes locked onto drawn weapons.

Michael kept his aim, whistling to draw their full attention to him as Alexia forced her man back into the room, closing the door. 'Hi,' he said, smiling despite the anger he was feeling as he saw his loft in ruins. 'So nice of you to invite us in.'

* * *

_Next update: Hopefully Saturday the 26th of June, but it's more likely to be Sunday the 27th or Monday the 28th._

I'm really sorry if that is the case. I will try to be on time, but it's the annual seniors ball at my school and it's my last year, so I'm going to be very busy doing final preparations the next couple of days, especially seeing as the theme is Wonderland and I'm going as the Queen of Hearts. I have to make sure I get everything together.

I'll make sure chapter 14 a nice long chapter for all of you who are followers/readers/new readers of How It Burns, whether I'm late or not.

Keep those wonderful comments coming when possible. It's been so nice to read them!

~ Ryuk In Person ~


	14. Boundaries Once Crossed

Sorry I'm late! The weekend did prove to be far too packed for me to update on time, so I offer you in apology, an extra long chapter nearly double the amount of a regular one.

I hope you will accept my apology and enjoy it.

~ Ryuk In Person ~

* * *

BOUNDARIES ONCE CROSSED…

With a quick flip of his weapon, Sam knocked the two closest men unconscious, watching as they fell to the floor with heavy thuds. The remaining swivelled their heads, eyes wide in surprise. They shot their gaze to Sam, seeing the unwelcoming grin on his lips.

Michael whistled, drawing their attention again. 'So, boys, to what do we owe the privilege?'

They both pursed their lips, glancing to one an other before they looked up at him, eyes following the barrel of the gun to his gaze. After a moment, both men reluctantly shook their heads in refusal, obviously not prepared to co-operate.

Yet.

Michael came to the steps, descending them slowly, never once releasing his aim, not even the smallest shake in his grip as he came to stand at their level. Oh yes, both may have been taller than him, one slightly so, the other towering, but he was the one in control. Alexia believed that even if the situation were reversed, he would be asking the right questions, getting them just annoyed enough to make a mistake.

It's exactly what he'd tried earlier when he'd first pinned her to the wall of her apartment, using both his physical presence and words to trap her in place. It was only luck that had gotten her out of that situation, the feminine instincts that called her to reach out to him, giving the instincts she'd developed over so many years as an operative – as a girl with no where to go, stuck in the darkness and shadows – a chance to kick in.

He finally lowered his weapon but kept it in hand, ready to bring it up in defence if required. He stopped just out of reach of the two, held in place by the weapon to their back, or in the case of the man that Alexia held, stomach, but she spun him around so that he could give Michael his full attention.

'Why don't we start with names,' Michael said, still smiling. It seemed almost friendly except for the daggers that flew from the pale blue gaze. 'My name is Michael, and that's Sam,' he said, pointing behind the man nearest to his closest friend. 'And that, 'he said, looking to Alexia, nearly grinning as he noticed the fear in the massive man's eyes, 'well, let's call her Mia. Now, what are your names?'

Both just stared as though uncomprehending.

'Oh come on, we're all friends here. I mean, you did let yourselves in.' Michael let them see the spark of anger in his gaze, the way his smile switched to a baring of teeth. He looked around his loft. 'Seems you made a big mess.'

Beads of sweat slowly tracked down from his brow, the man in front of Sam gulping audibly as Michael locked onto his gaze. 'What's your name?'

He shook his head, the brown hair, worn longer to his chin, swaying with the movement. He locked his broad jaw, though the look in his eyes made Alexia wonder if he did so to keep his teeth from clattering in fear.

'Mia, how about you show him the knife that you're currently using on his friend,' Michael said, flicking his gaze between both men to gauge their reactions as one experienced and the other watched.

Alexia brought the blade into view, drawing it away only to flick it a few times, the man against the barrel of her gun flinching with each click that sounded as she held it by his ear, letting him hear the swish of the blade. She glanced to the man held by Sam, watching his eyes widen as he tried to follow the knife, but that was why she liked it. It was deceptive, even the most basic tricks able to inspire fear, though she did not hold back her more complex moves.

'Sam, doesn't that just look like great fun?' he asked, though he looked to each of the men.

'Sure does Mikey,' Sam said. 'Certainly makes me want to have a go, though I'm not sure that I could control it without cutting off an ear or two.'

Alexia slid the blade over her man's ear using the flat edge, seeing the violent shiver ripple down his spine as the cold metal pressed a little harder, the tip coming to rest where the top of the lobe met his head.

Still they remained silent.

Alexia cast a glance to Michael to keep him quiet, an idea in her head. 'Keep this one in his place,' she said to Michael, getting him to place the tip of his weapon against the man's temple while she moved before him, stowing her own gun at her back, knife still in hand. 'You know, I could remove an ear,' she said, bringing the blade to his collar to slowly trail it down his shirt, the point catching on his clothing, 'but there are far better things to lop off.'

She sliced through the front of the black pants he wore, the fabric parting with ease just beside the zip, the blade coming to rest on the skin of his thigh. She met his gaze, knowing that she needed to combine a smile similar to Michael's baring of teeth and a very convincing crazed look in her eyes.

He gulped, sweat tracking down the side of his forehead only to run along the barrel that rested against his temple. He shook, freezing as the tip of the blade twitched sideways to leave a burning slice in his skin.

'I wouldn't shake if I were you,' she said. 'I wouldn't even breathe.'

Another little shiver moved down his spine and she emphasised another short slice, pressing the blade a little deeper into the skin of his thigh, so very close. 'Careful,' she said, leaning in as though about to tell him a secret, 'you might make me slip.'

The other man cursed as the man broke into a sob.

'James!' he cried, glancing down to the gap where the blade disappeared into his pants, the metal shining threateningly. 'My name is James, god damn it. Please, take the knife away.' He turned to look at Michael, desperate even as the weapon came between his eyes. 'Get her away from me, man.'

James turned back to her, pleading with his eyes in fear of losing his manhood. A smile threatened to come over Michael's lips, but he held it back, lowering the weapon. 'Just a second, James,' he said, stepping over the unconscious men as he walked to the kitchen in search of some rope or cable ties, knowing he had something that he could use to tie them somewhere.

'Oh come o–'

'Uh-uh-ah,' Alexia warned, slicing his skin again, garnering a whimper from the much larger man. 'Be good for just a moment longer and then I'll leave you in Michael's capable hands, okay?'

Strong, rough, oh so wonderfully capable hands…

He nearly nodded but stopped himself, using his eyes to convey his understanding. She forced her focus to remain on him, refusing to let her thoughts stray too far when the man still presented a danger, threatened manhood or not.

Michael bound the wrists and ankles of the unconscious men, moving to the one who was held by Sam. He stepped aside, letting Michael reach out to tie the wrists of their hostage, but his first shot out, slamming into Sam's gut. He bent double, an arm around his stomach as his muscles tightened in pain. His head shot back as the elbow connected with nose, knocking him on his back, the gun skidding across the floor.

He turned to lunge at Michael. James took the opportunity of the distraction to step back from the blade and take a swipe at Alexia but she flicked the blade closed and ducked beneath his arm, staying close to his back to elbow him hard, right on his spine. He cried in pain, arching away, the movement giving her a chance to land a kick on the side of his skull, sending him crashing to the ground.

She flicked her butterfly knife open again, preparing to fling it straight into the thigh of the man who had attacked Sam, his massive fists landing heavy blows against Michael's arms, one sneaking beneath the protective shield to pummel his ribs, but a hand wrapped around her ankle before she could advance.

She cursed, kicking him before he could get a solid grip, seeing his eyes roll back ever so slightly before the lids flickered closed, telling her that he was definitely unconscious.

Why hadn't she kicked him when he'd first hit the floor, like she always did? She always kicked people when they were down to make sure they wouldn't get up again, to make sure they would not catch her as James nearly had. So why had she forgotten that rule, one that had saved her life on so many occasions, only to rush to help a man she barely knew?

She shook her head to get rid of the thoughts, knowing that they were nearly as distracting as the ones of his touch. She left James unconscious on the floor to rush forward. She threw her butterfly knife, the attacker's cry echoing through the loft as the blade imbedded deep in his thigh. There were no arteries to hit, meaning that he would survive the injury, ready to be questioned for as much information as he had.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt like a bitch.

He stumbled and Michael reacted, grabbing a handful of dark hair to wrench his body down, slamming the attacker's head onto his knee. Michael dropped him, brushing a few strands form his fingers before he pressed his foot to the man's throat, picking up the discarded cable ties to bind both ankles and wrists.

He straightened, stepping over the unconscious body to go to his friend's side. He held out his hand, helping Sam to his feet. 'You okay, Sam?' he asked, clapping a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Sam nodded, reaching up to touch forehead, winching a little as he felt the trail of blood that ran from his eyebrow, a bruise already colouring the skin around the split. 'Yeah,' he said, reaching into his pocket to grab a handkerchief. 'I'm fine. You?'

'A couple solid hits, but nothing that Nate hasn't dealt out to me.'

Sam laughed, winching again as his smile stretched his skin. He pressed the handkerchief down harder to stop the flow of blood, the pressure unpleasant but necessary. He glanced up to Alexia as she walked over, pulling the blade from the man's thigh, a groan slipping from his unconscious lips. 'Well at least one of us is uninjured.'

Michael watched her for a moment, rubbing his ribs, knowing that the blow on top of hers from the apartment would leave a very colourful bruise. 'Nice throw.'

She flashed a smile as she quickly wiped the bloody blade on his thigh beside the wound, making a quick note to clean it later before she flicked it closed, tucking it down the front of her bra. 'It looked like you were going to have a little but of trouble,' she said, coming forward, taking a couple of the cable ties from his hands. 'I thought I might give you a hand.'

A smile twitched on his lips as he watched her walk back over to James, the only man that they knew the name of. She bent to secure his wrists and ankles, the denim jeans tight over her curves, his eyes locking straight onto her fantastic behind in a rush that was strange to him, the sudden desire not enough to distract him though.

He felt an elbow gently nudge his arm, drawing his attention – reluctantly – from her.

Again.

'Hmm?'

Sam grinned at him. 'I guess I know what you were doing before I called you.'

Michael thumped him in the stomach playfully, glancing over to Alexia, hoping to hell she wasn't listening as she went through James's pocket in search of anything that could prove to be useful. He grabbed his friend's arm, drawing him to the kitchen before he went in search of the first aid kit, finding it discarded on the floor, along with much of all of the cupboards' contents. He grabbed it, going through it in search of something to cleanse the wound. He found some antibacterial swabs and pulled one from its packaging.

Sam leaned a little closer, dropping his voice. 'Come on, Mikey, did you really–'

He cursed as Michael pressed the swab to the wound with a little more pressure than required. 'No,' he said, wiping away the blood before he rummaged in the kit again, finding some steri-strips, forcing Sam to bend a little, pretending to look closer at the wound so that he could talk without fear of being heard. 'I just…I couldn't help–' He pursed his lips for a moment, dropping his head as he grabbed another steri-strip. 'Shit Sam, I don't know what I'm doing.'

'How can you not know?' he asked, leaning a little closer as Michael reached up. 'I mean, have you considered that it's not a good idea to get involved with her? You hardly even know her.'

'I know that,' Michael said through gritted teeth, 'but she keeps telling me things. I mean, she showed me the poison and the antidote, even trusted me to take her back to her apartment so that she could get her things. There is more to her than those three pages you found.'

Sam watched him for a moment, seeing the battle that raged in the pale blue. 'You like her, don't you?' he asked, not needing to see the quick nod that Michael offered. He let out a breath. 'Be careful Mike, and listen to me now because I may never say this again.'

'What?'

He pointed to his younger friend's chest. 'Make sure you follow that,' he said, angling his finger down, 'not that.'

Michael couldn't help but smile. 'I will, Sam,' he said, and it was only a part of him that disagreed.

Guess which part.

He stepped past Sam, clapping him on the shoulder before he moved around to stand by Alexia, watching as she went through the pockets of another man, still searching for anything useful. 'Find anything?'

'A couple of phones,' she said, straightening, the mobiles in her grasp. 'They could be useful, but other than that, there wasn't much.'

He reached up, resting his chin on his hand before he turned. 'Sam, can you go get Fi? I think she'll enjoy helping us with this,' he said as he looked at the men, none of them beginning to stir. 'And drop past my mum's place; make sure you update her on as little of the information as possible, but enough that you know she'll call if she sees people that shouldn't be on the street.'

He nodded, only arching an eyebrow when Alexia had turned away to sit on the end of the bed, running her hand through her hair, knowing that she wouldn't see hm. 'I'll call you on my way back,' he said as he made his way to the door, watching as Michael cast a glance at her.

He closed the door behind him.

* * *

As soon as she heard the click of the latch, she felt her body tense. Now that these men had been captured, the danger was, for the moment, over. There would be other men following which meant that they had to get out of the loft, but they had some time, a few hours to move the men and find another place to question them.

A few hours alone with Michael.

She gulped, feeling a little nervous as she glanced at him, watching as he looked around at the damage to his loft. In the aftermath of the fight, she had no idea what to think about him, about his feelings towards her, with only the desperate kisses that they'd shared at her apartment to go on, that heated attraction spurred by their fight. But even he had said that it had felt wrong, that his approach on her in the corridor felt like he was crossing boundaries that shouldn't be crossed.

And still when she had challenged him, he hadn't backed of.

So, what did that mean?

As he turned to face her, stepping over unconscious bodies toward her, she had a feeling she was about to find out.

She stood up, just resisting the urge to nervously fidget with the bracelet. 'Michael, I think we need to–'

A finger came against her lips, keeping her from talking as he stepped close, a few inches of air all that separated them. 'We need to find somewhere safe, but we can't do that until Sam gets back,' he said, voice lower, deeper than before, sending little chills down her spine. 'That means that until then, there's not much we can do.'

'But we need to–'

'Really, there's nothing we can do. These guys aren't going to wake up for a while and when they do, I want to present a force that is even, okay?' he said, reaching to gently stroke his fingers down her cheek, following the soft blush. 'So please, for a moment, just stop being an operative and let me kiss you, just like before in the apartment when all that stopped us was that stupid call, when, for just a moment, you had forgotten about all of these problems.'

She felt her throat work to gulp as he came closer, the heat of his body against hers. 'But what about what we found in the envelope,' she said, voice barely a whisper, 'we can't just forget about that. There are lives on the line.'

'Including ours,' he said. 'But, by your handler's determination to get the pages in the envelope, I think we can safely assume that it is the only copy which means there is still nothing that we can do, so, what do you say?' he asked, lips so close that his breath felt like a caress.

The silence stretched between them until finally she managed a sentence. 'I don't know what to say.'

Pale blue locked onto green. 'Then show me.'

* * *

_Next update: Wednesday 30th of June_


	15. Slow Torture

Warning: It's about to get hot.

* * *

SLOW TORTURE

She felt his fingertips trail down her neck, slowly moving to her shoulder, thumb following her collarbone in a slide that pulled at her shirt, making her wish that she could feel the warmth of his skin against hers. She knew that there were more important things to be done though, an idiot to be stopped and a weaponized virus to destroy, but his hand kept moving, running slowly down her arm before it slid along her hip, hand flat against her back before his arm wrapped tight around her. He drew her toward him and she did not protest, was unable to, his hand resting low on her spine to press her body to his, holding her in place as he dipped his head.

'Alexia,' he whispered, following her neck to brand her skin with heat. Shivers sprinted down her spine, voice vibrating through her. No, it wasn't particularly deep, didn't have the same quality as a rich baritone, but it was certainly memorable, the strength, the confidence within it like nothing she'd ever heard before.

'Please,' he said, other hand coming to her hip, stopping high on her thigh to mould her body to his, lifting her leg to hook her knee over his hip, feeling the denim tighten to accentuate the beautiful lines of her body. 'Let me love you, Alexia, let me hold you for a while, make you feel like the woman I know you are at heart; fierce, strong – free.'

He pressed his lips to her neck and she reached up, clinging to his shoulders. This wasn't the first time he'd held her like this, kisses driving her desperate and insane, but it was different than before. She could hardly decipher the emotions from the others that flew through her – anxiety, happiness, anticipation, compassion, and most surprising of all:

Trust.

She felt his shivers as her fingernails scraped over his scalp, one hand coming to rest on his nape, drawing him close, though their lips did not touch.

'I'm scared,' she admitted, 'scared of what I feel, what I'm doing. It's been a long time and even then I don't know if I'm ready–'

'Shh…' he soothed, his hand cupping her cheek, thumb caressing the flush of her skin. He pressed his forehead against hers, their noses touching. 'I won't hurt you Alexia,' he promised, that pale blue honest, open.

'How can you know?'

'I don't, not really. What I do know is that I would never hurt you intentionally, that I'm going to do everything in my power to have you because I don't know if I'll ever want another with my entire body, with every thought and breath like I do you,' he admitted. 'And maybe it's just a lusty cliché, maybe it's loneliness–'

'But maybe it's something else.'

He nodded, moving to place a kiss on her forehead, lips warming her. 'So for a while, let's lose ourselves. Forget about all of the crap that's coming; no matter what we do now it's still coming, so let's enjoy this moment we have while we can.'

She smiled, a little nervous quirk of her lips. 'Can we move then somewhere first?' she asked, glancing over his shoulder to the men that littered the floor.

She watched the look in his eyes, saw him considering leaving them exactly where they were. He let her leg slide slowly down his body, reluctant to step away as he claimed her lips in a quick kiss before he went to the kitchen. He came back with duct tape and covered the mouth of each man before dragging them beneath the loft, right at the back where a door disappeared into a room that she had not noticed before, barely visible against the wall. It was obviously one he had added during his time in the loft. For now, with them bound and unconscious, it would do.

She wanted Michael, not an audience, knowing that eventually one would wake up.

She took the time he spent to catch her breath, steady herself for the searing gaze that travelled over her body when he turned to face her again, the door slamming to lock the men in as he stalked towards her. She gasped as he drew her into his arms again, claiming her lips, kiss branding her as his hands moved to wrap around her waist again, one holding her knee back in place over his hip as he picked her up, turning them until he felt the end of the bed against the back of his knees.

He sat down, coaxing her to straddle him, hands gliding over her back as she bent her head to his neck. He bit his lip, her hands tight on his shoulders as her lips caressed his skin. He dared to run his hands down her spine, gripping high on her thighs to drag her body closer, pressing her against him even harder than before, surprised when she shifted closer herself, the movement eliciting a groan from his lips. He wove his fingers through the deep chestnut curls that fell over her shoulders, desperate to taste her lips, the sweetness of her kiss.

He brought his hands to the hem of her shirt, skimming it, slipping his fingers beneath the fabric to caress her hips, her body warm beneath the tight clothing. Testing his boundaries, he pushed the shirt higher, searching her skin with his hands. He heard her breath hitch and paused, waiting to see if she would reject his adventurous hands and hoping to god she wouldn't, his fingers itching to crawl higher, to explore every inch of her silky skin. She didn't stop him though, instead her hands lifted the hem of his shirt, nails scraping over his hips before she stripped the garment from his body.

She dropped it behind her, running her hands over his chest, his abs, the sun kissed skin calling to her. She felt the strength of his muscles as they clenched with his breath and her touch, the latent power within his arms as they tightened around her.

He carefully stripped her of her shirt, remembering her injured shoulder, always careful when so many men would have forgotten in their haste to rid her of her clothes. She'd been with few men, very few, though she had brushed off many passes, but she had never felt safer in someone's arms.

She felt something inside shift, something that she did not want to dwell on, something that she had never felt before. But it felt so good, the warmth that spread through her body.

He leant back on the bed, the mattress soft beneath his body as she laid herself over him like a blanket made only for him, fitted to warm ever part of his body as her lips did the most wicked things. She moved to his jaw, his neck, tracing tantalizing trails along his chest and stomach, his muscles jumping in reaction to her feather light touch.

She dipped her head to his chest, tongue slowly trailing around a nipple before she nipped at it, a sharp breath escaping his clenched teeth. She looked up at him, watching the way he arched back ever so slightly as she dragged her nails over his stomach, reaching the hem of his jeans. She popped the top button open, hearing his little gasp.

He was enjoying the way she moved, teased, but he knew that he could take little more. He felt his own desires rising, the need to roll her beneath him and take her with his whole body, love her with his hands, mouth, every inch of him.

He felt the zip slide a little and grasped her wrists, pulling her hand away before she could dip below the waistband, his other hand moving to grip her thigh as he rolled her onto her back, settling his body over hers, a knee between her thigh as he looked down at her. He pressed his leg against her body as he lowered himself over her, still balancing his weight as he ran his hands up her stomach, just brushing the front clasp of her bra, one of comfort yet still undeniably sexy on her.

'Do you want to go further,' he asked, lips at her ear, knowing that she was still weary, that although her body responded oh so deliciously to him, there was still an underlying fear.

She kissed his cheek, hands clenching on his shoulders. He drew back, meeting her gaze, needing to see the truth in her eyes when she answered. She took a breath, cheeks flushed pink as she looked up at him. 'Yes,' she said, sitting up a little, unclipping the clasp.

He watched as she slowly revealed herself to him, the straps of the simple black bra siding down her shoulders, dropping behind her. She tossed it off the bed, lying back again, no doubt feeling the heat of his riveted eyes as he stared at the perfect handfuls, her rosy nipples beaded, making his mouth water.

He dipped his head, taking one of the rosy tips between his teeth, gently grazing it as he cupped her other breast in his hand, so plump in his palm as he massaged her, his thumb and forefinger careful in their teasing. He felt her little shivers, her foot running up his calf in a sensual slide before she hooked her leg over his, hips rising against him as she arched towards his tongue, her fingers weaving into his hair.

He dropped his hand lower, continuing to tease her with his tongue while he cupped her for a moment, feeling the heat of her centre through the denim. He flicked the top button open, sliding the zip down, leaving her for only a moment as he stripped them from her body, only her black panties remaining. He licked his lips as he looked down at her, pushing his jeans over his hips as she leant on her elbows, gaze following the denim as he let it drop to the ground.

He smiled at her, as he hooked his thumbs in the top of his underwear, slowly pulling them over his hips, watching as her tongue flicked out, trailing over her bottom lip as he kicked them from his body.

She met his gaze and he saw the heat in her eyes, knew that it was reflected within his own as he knelt on the end of the bed, gently pushing her legs open to kneel between them. He bent over her, keeping their bodies separated as he claimed her lips, though she arched towards him, hands clinging to his arms as he slid his hands between their bodies.

He rubbed her slowly, her panties wet were he touched her. He listened to the little gasps and moans that slipped through her, feeling his body respond in desperation as they vibrated through him, knowing that the throbbing down south would drive him insane if he didn't do something about it soon, but he wanted to touch her, taste her first.

He slipped his hand beneath the fabric, an appreciative growl rumbling through his chest as he felt the soft curls at his fingertips, the noise turning to a groan as he came upon her sex. He slid a finger into her delicate folds, feeling her body jerk as he spread the moisture that had pooled between her thighs, gently rubbing the swollen bud that begged for his attention. He devoured the little gasps that came from her lips as he rolled her clitoris between his thumb and forefinger, her head dropping back as a breathless cry escaped her.

He left her for another moment, hurried in his movements to rid her of the remaining black fabric that kept him from her heat. He dropped them to the floor, sitting eagerly between her legs as they fell open for him, begging him to touch her again. He slicked his fingers with her moisture before he continued to rub the little bud with his thumb, one of his fingers pushing slowly into her body, feeling the tightness and heat, cock jerking with desperation to be buried within it.

He carefully added another finger, feeling her opening for him, a little cry escaping her lips as he pumped them in and out, stretching her sheath, preparing her.

Her fingers curled in the sheets, body arching as she felt the sweet burning within, the heat twisting and building as he brought her closer and closer to her climax, the pleasure a slow torture of which she didn't believe she could stand, not without being able to make him feel the same, torture him with her touch as he did her.

She shifted, gripping his arm to drag his lips to hers. He groaned as she wrapped her fingers tight around his length, stroking him in time with the delicious rhythm he was working. She felt his hips buck as she slid her hand down the cup him, hot and heavy in her hand, his breath falling against her neck in pants as she stroked him, a little faster, her hands like silk.

'Harder,' he grated, breathless as he thrust into her grip, hips shifting to rest between her thighs. He pulled his hand away, fingers wrapping around hers to make her grip him tighter, to pump him faster. He pulled her hands away to take himself in hand, positioning himself at her entrance, a thrill ripping through him as he realised he was finally going to plunge into her, to sate the throb of need that was so very close to tipping him over the edge.

'Whoa, hold on,' she said, realisation slamming into her, making her shuffle back a little.

He paused, looking up at her. 'I'm not going to hurt you,' he promised again, knowing that a certain part of him, functioning with far, far more blood than his brain would protest at his next words, 'but if you don't want to go any further…'

She smiled at him. 'It's not that, it's just that, well, I'm not on the pill.'

He dropped his head onto her chest with a little groan. 'Oh,' he breathed, feeling his body protesting as his cock throbbed with need. Still he released his grip, reaching up to lay his hand her hip. 'Shit.'

'Don't you–'

'No,' he admitted, feeling his cheeks heat a little, finger tracing absent circles over her hip. 'I haven't had much cause for them of late.'

'Serious?'

He nodded. 'After all of the burn notice shit, helping the people that came to me and generally just not having much time for myself, I don't tend to meet people.'

And now that he had, he couldn't even have her.

He groaned again, shifting, the rub of the sheets against his shaft too much to bear. He sat up, looking down at her, seeing her flushed cheeks, her rosy nipples darker from his attention, her sex wet and slick with need.

He could still claim her, if not with his hips between her thighs, then with the other, far more nimble parts of his body, ones that had had her writhing on the sheets before. He moved forward, intent on his actions, but her hands were already pushing him to lie back, holding him down as she slid down his body. He didn't realise her intent until her lips wrapped around the head of his cock, sucking until he cried out with pleasure, feeling her tongue dart of the slit as her hand wrapped around the bottom of his shaft and then below, stroking him, enveloping him in heat and need.

He felt the pressure building, felt the way her tongue slowly teased him closer and closer to the edge of release, on hand reaching to grip his hip, holding him in place as he felt his body reacting to her torture.

He felt a curse slip through his lips, followed by a hiss of breath as she did wicked things with her mouth. He was panting, so very close to his climax, tipping over into sweet oblivion with a cry as she sucked hard, pumping him, swallowing every last drop of his release.

She moved up his body as the blood slowly worked it's way back to his head and his other limbs, a calmness settling over him, his arms wrapping around her as she lay beside him, kissing his collarbone, his neck.

He could still feel the heat of centre against him, her leg draped over his body. He trailed a finger along her side, her hip, hearing her gasp as he stroked her.

'You didn't think I was just going to nod off to sleep, did you?' he asked, kissing her forehead as he teased the excited bud of nerves, rolling his finger over it until she bucked against him.

He felt her body press against him as the heat within her coiled low and tight before she moaned with her release, the sweet sounds filling his ears, little cries escaping her as he continued to circle her clitoris, varying the pressure until it was exactly right, her cry echoing through the loft.

Her body relaxed against him, boneless as he withdrew his finger from her delicate folds, breath falling heavy against his neck. He brought his finger to his lips, tasting her release, eyes shuttering. 'I can't wait to taste you for real,' he said, shifting her higher against him so that he could turn his head and claim her lips.

'Neither,' she breathed, mentally adding that she couldn't wait to have him buried deep within her, body thrusting long and hard into hers.

No, she definitely couldn't wait for that.

Michael groaned as he heard his mobile ringing somewhere nearby, still in one of the pockets of his jeans. 'I hate people sometimes,' he whispered against her lips, refusing to release her.

'It might be important,' she said. 'It certainly was last time.'

'You make it sound like you want me to leave.'

'I could spend an entire day devouring you and not be sated, so no, I don't want you to,' she said, 'but we have to return to reality sometime.'

He kissed her again, climbing from the bed to grab his jeans. He fetched the mobile from his pocket, answering it.

Sam didn't wait for a hello. 'I'm on my way back,' he said, 'I thought you might like to know because I'm bringing Maddie.'

'What? Why are you bringing my mum?'

'There's something going on at her house, some strange men watching. I'll get Fi to bring a van so that we can move us and our little group of hostages somewhere nice, quiet and secret as soon as we get there.'

'Okay Sam, I'll see you soon.'

'Sorry if I interrupted again.'

They both hung up and Michael sighed, slinging his jeans on, moving back to sit by Alexia on the bed.

'Let me guess,' she said, leaning against his back, chin on his shoulder. 'It really is time to go back to reality.'

He sighed, hand over hers. He nodded, turning his head to kiss her, wishing it weren't true. 'Yeah,' he said, 'time to go back to reality.'

* * *

_Next update: Saturday the 3rd of July _


	16. Guilty Conscience

GUILTY CONSCIENCE

Alexia straightened her shirt, pulling her sleeves down to cover her wrists before she ran her fingers through her hair, briefly combing it into some resemblance of order before Sam could arrive with…

She gulped.

_Madeline._

How was she going to explain it all to her, to the sweet woman who had trusted her from the very beginning when they had met by chance at a supermarket? Had helped her and listened to her when she'd complained about work and had offered her support and advice.

All Alexia had done was lie to keep both herself and her new friend safe. She had, after all, intended on disappearing once she had done the job for Thompson, explaining it away as moving for a new job or a new life somewhere interstate or overseas.

After she'd first encountered Michael again, knew that he recognised her, overseas had been her first thought.

But Alexia had never known that she would run into Michael or that their lives were about to be tied, whether she wanted it or not. What was supposed to be a quick easy job – in and then out with the envelope, discovered to be filled with horrible things – had turned into a nightmare, one that had to be stopped.

But now she was going to have to reveal herself.

Somehow though she was more afraid of the fact that she wanted to, hated knowing that she had lied to Maddie, hated that it took a shove to make her tell her friend about who she was. Yes, it would be a load off of her shoulders, but she didn't know if she'd be able to stand the look of betrayal in Madeline's eyes, even though she had been following her instincts to protect her, though a part of her now realised that with Michael around, there was no real need for her to protect her from a name. She herself, a stranger, had never felt safer and it had barely been a day, though the trust was taking time to build. Somehow she knew that it would only strengthen, what with his determination to help her, to protect her. Protect _her_, a woman who had made it clear from the beginning that she wasn't very good at playing with the other kids.

God she was paranoid.

Yet Michael had persisted, had even broken down barriers that had never fallen or even cracked before, and all with a few words, kisses and that piercing pale blue gaze.

She startled as a hand slid down her arm, a chin coming to rest on her shoulder. She nearly reached up, prepared to reach over to grip his shoulder and flip him over her, but as soon as she felt the strong arms wrap around her, she relaxed a little, remembering as she glancing down to the hands that rested low on her stomach, the fingers weaved to hold her tight.

'You're distracted,' he said, gently kissing her injured shoulder as her hands moved to cover his, soft and warm.

She smirked. 'How did you guess?'

'You didn't kick my ass,' he said and she felt is smile against her neck. 'I know that you would be used to defending first, though I admit I'm glad that you didn't this time.'

'Afraid I'd throw you on your back again?'

He laughed, tightening his hold around her. 'Oh,' he breathed, kissing her neck again, trailing his lips over her skin to send a shiver down her spine, 'maybe a little.'

She felt a rush as another thought came to her. 'I think you liked the last time more than the first.'

He spun her on her toes, drawing her tight against him. His arms coiled around her, one hand slowly sliding down her back, pressing her body closer. He smirked against her lips, breath hot as he locked onto the gorgeous green. 'And somehow I think the next time will be even better.'

He claimed her lips in a kiss, a little rough at first, tantalising her senses as he tasted her, slanting his lips to deepen it until a moan escaped her, sending a quiet growl rumbling through him. When he pulled back, she was short of breath; her heart was beating so fast it hummed in her chest, that charming smile quirking his lips.

Yeah, he knew the affect that he had on her.

'Think you can tell me what you were thinking about before?' he asked, brushing his nose against hers, refusing to release her from his arms, though she couldn't complain.

She fought the fog in her head, nearly shaking it in an attempt to clear it, forcing her gaze from his lips and the charming smile that had a wicked edge to it. 'Does Maddie know about you? That you're a spy?'

The smile dropped a little. 'Yes, she does,' he said. 'She has for a little while now.'

'And she's okay with it?'

He shrugged. 'As okay as a concerned mother can be when she finds out why her eldest son left for ten years.'

She saw the regret in his gaze, but knew that it was a subject was better left alone for now.

'She's going to wonder about me,' Alexia said, glancing away. 'She's smart. As soon as she walks in here, she's going to know that something is up.'

'I know,' he said, pursing his lips, leaning his forehead against hers as he exhaled a breath.

'Then what do we tell her?'

'How about the truth?'

* * *

Michael and Alexia's eyes flew to the open door before they stepped away from each other, both resisting the urge to check clothes that they knew were tidy and hair that was previously ruffled – now in order – knowing that it would make for a far more incriminating scene.

'Mum,' he said, seeing Sam step in behind her, a look of both apology and amusement in his eyes. 'You got here fast.'

She folded her arms over her chest, quirking an eyebrow at him. 'I guess it's a good thing that I didn't get here any faster.' She threw a glance at Alexia, but there was a note of amusement in her eyes. 'I see that you stayed out of Mia's life then, Michael.'

He dropped his gaze for a moment, stepping forward to place his hands on his mother's shoulders. 'There's something that we need to tell you.'

She brushed away his touch with a swipe of her hands. 'Well obviously there is Michael.' She headed straight to Alexia, embracing her for a surprising moment, leaving Alexia so stunned that she didn't know what to do and merely stood, accepting but not returning the hug, eyes a little wide when Madeline stepped back, her hands on Alexia's shoulders. 'What has my son gotten you into?'

'Well actually–'

'I told you to leave her alone,' she interrupted, throwing a glare at Michael, apparently sure that Alexia – Mia – had no other role apart from damsel in distress.

'No, really, this is all my–'

'It is not your fault, honey. You've been sucked into a very bad world. But don't worry. I'm sure that Michael is going to fix what he screwed up.' Another pointed glare.

'Mum–'

'Oh shove a cork in it Michael, there's no amount of weaselling that you can do to make it sound better. Now you better leave Mia alone.'

'My name Alexia.'

Madeline froze mid turn as she prepared to further scold Michael into oblivion. She looked back at her, wide eyes narrowing ever so slightly, sending a flood of guilt over Alexia.

* * *

His mother's surprise gave him a moment to sneak over the Sam with quiet steps.

'Were you followed?'

'No,' he said, closing the door behind him, surprised gaze locked on Alexia. 'So that's her real name then? Surprised I didn't hear you screaming it on my way–'

Michael glared at him, sending his friend into silence. 'Not now Sam,' he said through clenched teeth.

'I just figured with the way that you two were–'

'I said _not. Now. Sam_,' Michael hissed, the slightest blush flushing his cheeks as he glanced to Alexia, something else playing through the pale blue. 'Just tell me when Fi is going to get here.'

'Soon,' he said with amusement dancing in his gaze, though he turned serious. 'She said she was going to pick up a few things.'

'Is she bringing Don?'

'No, but he's going to find a safe place for us to stash the boys and help Fi with the interrogation. You know those two, how they both like to fight dirty. I mean, for them it's just like fore–'

'Right, well, our friends are stashed out back,' Michael interrupted, not needing to hear more of what he was about to say. 'Alexia didn't want–'

'What Mikey?' Sam prompted when his friend's lips snapped shut. 'What didn't she want?'

'Later,' Michael snapped, though a little smirk played across his lips. 'I'll tell you later.'

* * *

'My name is Alexia Salazar,' she said, too afraid to meet Madeline's gaze, 'not Mia Landlaw.'

Madeline folded her arms over her chest. 'I guess you don't develop computer software then.'

'Not for a living, no,' she said with a sigh.

'So you're another spy then?'

'Yes.'

She felt fingers grip her chin, forcing her gaze to Madeline's. She expected to see a harsh, angry look in the older woman's eyes, but there was only welcoming smile within them. 'Nice to meet you Alexia,' she said, though the smile dropped. 'You're not planning to hurt my son are you?'

There was the Maddie that she knew and adored, tough as nails and determined as hell.

'No, I'm not,' she glanced to Michael. 'I've already done that before and I regret it far too much to do it again.'

He stepped forward, instantly reaching for Alexia, his hand on the small of her back. 'That was a long time ago, mum. And it was unintentional. She had no idea who I was and all she was doing was what she'd been assigned to do; complete her job,' he said, looking to her, a little smile quirking her lips. 'Besides, I'm still here, aren't I?'

Madeline snorted. 'Barely,' she said before she let out a sigh, casting a surprised glance at both of them, throwing one over her shoulder to Sam. She shook her head a little. 'Are there no normal people left in Miami?'

* * *

_Next update: Wednesday the 7th of July_


	17. Knowing

KNOWING

Madeline didn't even blink as she watched Sam and Michael carry the men from the back of the loft. She just watched them, her elbow perched on her hip, a cigarette tucked between her fingers.

'Mum, do you have to smoke in here?' Michael asked, voice strained as he shifted the weight of the man, nearly sending Sam to his knees.

Her hands went to her hips, ash precariously clinging to the end that slowly burned away. 'You had me dragged out here Michael. I'll smoke all I want.'

'Fine.' A grimace. 'At least find an ashtray or something.'

She rolled her eyes at him before she went to the kitchen, looking around but finding no ashtray, as per usual. She went through the cupboards, eventually locating an old and rather neglected egg cup to tap the ash into. She placed it on the counter and leant beside it, taking another drag as the boys disappeared out the door to the newly arrived van.

Maddie glanced behind her at Alexia, watching as she dug in the bin that sat in the sink. She turned, resettling herself to watch as Alexia pulled handfuls of ash from within the bin, crushing it into fine powder. 'Have you met Fiona?'

Alexia looked around, pausing. 'Hmm?'

'Fiona. Have you met her?'

Alexia turned, dusting ash off of her hands. 'No, but I have a lot to thank her for,' she said, smiling as she leant back against the sink, hands on either side of the metal. 'She stitched me back up.'

_Uh-oh_.

'Why did you need stitching up?'

'Ah,' Alexia started, thinking of ways to make the situation sound less dangerous than it was. 'Well, I sort of was chased by a group of men that wanted some information that I had. Well, actually, I ran into Michael and he chased me, but I was paranoid so I jumped a fence, hurt my leg and was then attacked by men.'

'What–'

'But I'm fine because Michael came along. So, it turns out it was a good thing he was looking for me,' she interrupted, wishing that she could place a reassuring hand on Madeline's shoulder, but not wanting to put ash all over the her white blouse. 'I'm fine now, just a couple of cuts and scrapes.'

Madeline quirked an eyebrow. 'That needed stitches?'

Alexia opened her mouth, looking for a response but finding none. Madeline tapped her chin up, grinning. 'It's okay honey, life of a spy and all of that,' she said, moving back to her makeshift ashtray, the steady trail of smoke slowly fading as she doused it in its own ash.

She smiled, back against the sink for a moment longer before turning to the bin again, further crushing the burnt pages into the smallest flakes of ash before she tipped the contents into the sink, flushing it down the drain with a quick burst of water.

The door groaned a little as it was pushed open.

'Feeling the creaks of your old age Sam?' called a voice, a slender hand holding the door, though they did not step through. Instead, they waited for the muffled reply before they laughed and walked into the loft, hair spilled over fine shoulders, a line of a flat stomach peeking out from the top of low-cut white jeans.

Madeline leant against the counter again. 'I see you got dragged into this too, Fiona.'

'Oh, you know Michael. He likes to share his problems around.'

Alexia turned, shaking water off of her hands before she reached for a dishtowel to dry them. She looked at Fiona, smiling, knowing that she had a lot to thank to woman for. She dropped the dishtowel, moving toward her. 'I believe we haven't been properly introduced,' she said, offering her hand.

Fiona waved it off, embracing her gently as she remembered Alexia's injuries. 'Mia, isn't it?' she asked when she stepped back, hands staying on her upper arms as she gave her a quick once over. 'Are you okay?'

'Alexia, actually, and yeah, I'm good,' she said, surprised but flattered by the woman's concern for a person she didn't even know. 'Thank you for taking care of me.'

'As if I was going to let Michael do it. I mean, he can think on his feet with stitches and first-aid, but I'm not so bad myself and I thought you might prefer him to keep his hands off,' she said, such a feisty package despite her petite size. Her shoulder lifted in a half shrug. 'Well, that's what I assumed, anyway.'

Alexia just stopped the flush of colour from washing over her cheeks, just stopped herself from glancing to the bed which lay so perfectly made, the sheets that had previously been knotted from her death grip on them flat and smooth. 'Thank you.'

Fiona smiled. 'It's no problem. I'm just glad that he finally found you. You're all he's talked about all week,' she said. 'Though, not a bad thing considering. I don't like thinking about what might have happened to you if…'

'If I hadn't run into Michael,' Alexia finished, pursing her lips. 'If he hadn't been so desperate to find out more about me that he'd chase me.'

'Yeah,' she said, placing a hand on her shoulder for a moment, her smile soft, 'that.'

'Alexia, grab the envelope,' Michael called as he and Sam headed back to the door beneath the loft to carry another man out.

'Should we really take it with us?' she asked, flashing a smile at Fi before she stepped around her. 'They didn't find it.'

He and Sam appeared again, sharing the weight of another one of the massive men. 'That doesn't mean they won't if they come here again after we've left.' He shifted the man's weight, pausing to look at her, gaze scorching hers. 'We can't risk it, and we're not coming back here until this is all dealt with.'

She nodded and he smiled, gaze locked with hers.

'Come on, Mikey. This is killing my back,' Sam said, a curse slipping through his lips as he shifted the weight of the intruder, balancing the prone body on his knee so that he could get a better hold beneath the man's arms.

Michael had to drag his gaze away, offering a quick apology to his friend before they continued to the door to carefully make their way down the stairs.

Alexia stood for a moment, wondering if she should tell Madeline to look away when she reached for the envelope, knowing that it was likely an important hiding place for Michael, one he wouldn't want his mother to know about. She felt Fi come beside her, her hair brushing Alexia's shoulder as the petite woman flicked it over her shoulder.

Fi leant a little closer. 'He's quite infatuated with you,' she said, voice lowered so that only Alexia could hear.

She turned, staring at Fi, her eyes wide. 'What?'

'Michael likes you,' she said, grinning as she placed a hand lightly on Alexia's back before she nudged her forward, toward the stairs, knowing where the hiding place was. She followed, still smiling. 'It's very obvious.'

'Really?' Alexia asked as she climbed the stairs, reaching beneath the top step to find the panel of wood that Michael had moved before. She pushed it aside, reaching in to pull the envelope out, the paper feeling heavier than she knew that it was, the urge to drop it so strong. It was as though the longer she knew what it was, the more frightening and painful it was going to get, especially with Thompson's surprisingly cunning men following them, determined to get hold of an envelope, the contents of which they probably were unaware of, never thinking of the consequences.

Alexia knew of the consequences. She never did a job without thinking of every consequence that could occur, whether plausible or not. Even in London, she'd known that the drinks boy – that Michael – would likely be the one to suffer for what she had to do. She hadn't known that he would get out alive, had even assumed the worst, believing him to be just another man who had been caught up in the whirlwind that was the four. Despite that, she'd had no choice. There was no blackmail – they did not have families or things that they cared for – there was just an end to the pain that they would cause before they could cause it.

The more she'd thought about it over the week, she'd realised that a part of her was relieved when she'd seen Michael walk into Madeline's kitchen, alive, well, and though it scared the hell out of her, the Michael Westen that she'd feared.

Past tense.

She came to the bottom of the stairs, clutching the envelope.

Fi nodded, dragging her out of her thoughts. 'Really,' she said. 'I've seen the way he looks at you. Hell, I used to be you.'

'You and–'

'A long time ago now, before I met Don.' A smile came over her lips, one of such intense happiness that the brightness in her eyes nearly blinded Alexia. 'I know Michael well, Alexia, and just by watching the way he looks at you I can tell there's a lot of feeling there, though I'm sure you're in that we've-just-met mentality.'

Alexia offered a smile, pretending to confirm it.

'Michael's an intense person, in being and emotion. He can get into a person's head and know them from the beginning, learn them in a way that no one ever can, understand their needs and their fears and react to them. It's one of the things I loved most about him,' Fi said, taking Alexia's hand for a moment. 'If that's something you can't handle, and I don't blame you if you can't – I couldn't in the end, even when I thought that was what I wanted – then make sure you distance yourself now, because whether you want it or not, I know you're drawn to him.'

She held Alexia's gaze, leaning in as if about to tell a great secret, sincerity in her eyes as she spoke straight to her, no gimmicks or half-truths. 'Despite letting him go, I still love Michael, though that love has changed over time. I want what's best for him, and I believe by what I have seen in his eyes, that could be you. So, if you think you can handle it, the intensity that is Michael Westen, then hold on tight because he's worth all of the ups and downs.'

'But, I don't really know how he feels,' Alexia said. And she didn't. All she knew was they there was an attraction that they couldn't describe or deny, an emotional connection on some level that they were yet to understand.

'Next time you're in the same room, watch how he stands, how he moves,' Fi said, that comforting hand returning to hold hers for a moment. 'He'll always position himself close, protective, move when you move. He'll touch you in the simplest of ways like tucking your hair behind your ear, and you'll see the smile on his lips, just for the moment. That's how you can tell when Michael Westen feels for you, beyond levels that either of you are likely able to describe.'

She turned, walking to the door and out to the van as Michael and Sam loaded the last two men into the can, locking them in the back with their arms stretched above their heads, the cable ties on their legs carefully but brilliantly nailed into the floor of the van to prevent any movement.

Alexia just clutched the envelope in her hand, realising that she was in over her head, and it was just beginning.

'Ready to go?' Michael asked as he walked over, beads of sweat tracking down his temples from the strain of hefting the men down the stairs and into the van. He reached out to tuck a curl behind her ear, making Alexia's heart skip a beat as he flashed that charming smile.

She pulled a smile over her lips, forcing herself not to have a little freak out/happy dance moment there and then. 'Yes,' she said, walking with him to the door, Madeline close behind. She searched her mind for a distraction, scrounging through her thoughts. 'I need to go get my stuff out of your car.'

He nodded. 'Fi and Sam will walk you around while I get mum into Sam's car.'

She nodded, clearing her throat a little as they went down the steps. She stopped by Fi, smiling at the wink that was tossed her way.

'I want you all back here in less than five,' he said, this time shocking Alexia just as she had with her sudden kiss to the cheek just hours before. He pressed his lips to her temple, hand running softly down her back in an absent gesture that stunned her.

She watched as he walked away, leading Madeline to the gate and toward Sam's car. She reached up, touching the skin, still branded by his kiss, hearing a little laugh from Fi who smiled at her, putting an arm lightly around her shoulder.

'Told you so.'

* * *

_Next update: Saturday the 10th of July_


	18. Instructions

INSTRUCTIONS

Don had called, telling Fi their new location. After fetching her coat and belongings, they left the Charger in its place on the street, tucked on block where it would not be noticed. It was too recognisable and its details had likely been recorded by Thompson's men.

'Michael told me that you have a Corvette; a red 1969,' Fi asked, turning to face Alexia in the back compartment, resting her head on her arms once she had folded them on the back of the seat.

'I'm glad that Thompson doesn't know about it,' she said. 'God knows what he would have done to it when he found out hat I was alive.'

'Where is it?'

She smiled. 'It's safe, hidden away where it can't be found.'

Fi glanced to Sam before looking to Alexia, voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. 'We have to go for a ride when this is all over. We'll leave the boys at home and go on a girls' road trip. You know, beaches, shopping,' She grinned, her eyes sparkling with a deviousness that was unrivalled by anyone Alexia had ever met. Fi sighed a little, slumping happily on the back of the seat as she said, '…shoes.'

Alexia smiled, realising just how good that sounded, how…normal. She hardly knew this woman and already she felt accepted, was treated like a friend despite what she had brought them into. They were ready to help her even though it put them at great risk. After all, she had nothing to lose while they had family and friends, people who needed them. Why would they risk it for her?

_But you can have what they have too._

She shook her head at the absurdity. No matter what she had with Michael – whatever it was – it couldn't last.

Could it?

She tried not to think about it, tried to avoid the big _if_, but no matter how hard she worked to keep her thoughts away from it, she kept wondering. Could she really have…more? A life that was not just about being an operative and completing the jobs she was handed? Friends like Fi, Sam and Maddie? A man like Michael?

Could she really let herself dream of more?

'What do you think?' Fi asked, a cheeky grin on her lips, her eyebrow arched in question. 'Sound like fun?'

For a while at least, she could let herself dream.

She smiled. 'Yeah, it does.'

'What are you two planning?' Sam asked, casting a sideways glance at Fi, then to the rear-view mirror to Alexia. 'All I heard of that whispering was Corvette, red and girls. I feel this is a conversation that I should be in on.'

'Sorry Sam, this is for cool girls only.'

He pulled a smile over his lips, glancing between them. 'I can be cool.'

Fi rolled her eyes before she looked to Alexia. 'He's just desperate to have something to do with women because he's between sugar mummies.'

'I choose to stay away from the gorgeous, newly divorced, mature ladies of Miami so that they can recover from their last visit with Sam.'

'I'm sure seeing you naked scarred them for life.'

'Well, who would want to see any other man after they've seen me?' he asked, grinning as though his teeth would flash in the light. 'I'd hate to be the act to follow.'

Fi smirked. 'It must be so difficult for the follow ups not to laugh at the stories they hear from the gorgeous, newly divorced, mature ladies of Miami. Though, all the ladies would really need to do to get the point across is hold up their fist and show the boys their pinky finger.' Fi's smirk turned to a grin as she showed him exactly what she meant, wiggling it right beside his face.

Sam opened his mouth, floundering for words before he finally pursed his lips in defeat. He stared straight ahead, intent on the road while his brain worked for a comeback, but he could not think of anything that wouldn't get him laughed at.

'You two have a strange friendship, don't you?'

'I wouldn't really call it a friendship.'

'Oh, I know that the two of you adore each other. I can see it beneath the banter and the playful fighting,' Alexia said, leaning against the side of the van. 'You're lucky.'

'I wouldn't call it luck,' Sam said, earning himself a punch on the arm from Fi, nothing like the playful ones that Michael usually dealt. He cursed, ducking away from a second one, elbow rising to fend off a third. 'Hey, I'm trying to drive here, Fi!'

Fi glared at him and brought her fist up anyway, sending Sam cringing away.

'Don't take it for granted,' Alexia interrupted, closing her eyes for a moment as she rested her head against the cool metal, wrapping her coat a little tighter around herself. 'It's one of the most important things in keeping you grounded. It's much harder to keep yourself sane – to keep your humanity – when you have none of that.'

Fi nudged her arm, apparently having been distracted from causing Sam pain, and Alexia turned to face her. Fi put a hand on her shoulder gently. 'What's wrong?'

A tight smile came over her lips. 'Let's just say that all I've known for a very long time is how to be a spy.'

'Don't you have any fam–'

Alexia shook her head sharply, looking away to stare at the men that were still unconscious, though she could see them beginning to stir. 'This is all I've ever known, all I've ever needed.' _Until now._

'But…How do you stand it?'

'Acquaintances. Never lasting ones, but the briefest contact with people, whether my own age, younger or older just has to be enough,' she said. 'I can't risk getting closer for fear that they would get hurt.'

'No one knows who you are though,' Sam said, some of the playfulness gone from his eyes as he stared at her in the rear-view mirror. 'I mean, before a few hours ago, Michael was the only one who knew your real name, and he only learned that this morning, didn't he?'

'You're the only four people who know my name,' she said, something of a smile on her lips. 'I shouldn't have told you, yet I did. I even told Maddie, and already I feel that she could be in danger because of it.'

'No one can find you if you don't want to be found,' Sam said. 'Believe me; Michael has been keeping an eye out for you for years, ever since London. Even when he resolved that he was going to find you, our combined efforts and all the contacts we have could only dig up three pages, and that was pretty much what we'd found on Mia Landlaw, your alias. If not for the insanely lucky fact that Michael bumped into you because he decided to walk back to the loft, we never would have found you.'

'I'd be dead and Thompson would probably be about to get his weaponized Ebola if he didn't already have it,' she said, voicing the words that he didn't dare say. 'I'm glad that he was so determined to find me, I am, but I wish that the true dilemma here was just in my imagination, because this is going to get far worse before it gets better.'

'That's why you're not going to be alone in this,' Fi said, ever the fiery little package, far stronger and far more determined that many of the famous, frightening operatives in the world. 'We're going to beat this and put Thompson's head on a stake.'

'I suggest we put it somewhere where all of the other little dickheads who think it would be a great idea to weaponize something as bad as Ebloa can see it so they think long and hard before they try,' Sam said, his tone frighteningly cheery considering what he was discussing, but Alexia couldn't agree more.

A phone vibrated. Both Fi and Sam checked theirs, but it was one of the mobiles that Alexia had taken off of the four men that lay in the van. She put her finger to her lips, looking at the name and number that appeared on the screen. The number she didn't recognise, the name strange. It was somehow familiar but her thoughts were blank, as though she could see the word in her mind but didn't know how to say it.

'Who is it?' Sam asked, glancing in the rear-view mirror.

'I don't know. The name says Twin though,' she said, holding it to Fi. 'Sam, can you mimic James's voice?'

He cleared his throat. 'How's this?'

'Lower, more…cheeky.'

'What about this? Better?'

She nodded. 'Pull over,' she said, waiting until he'd turned the ignition off before she flipped the still ringing mobile open.

'Took your time,' a voice growled, distorted into a robotic hum. 'What's taking _four_ of you so long? It's just one little loft.'

'We looked everywhere, but we couldn't find it. It's not in the loft, but we just saw a car pull up,' Sam said, mimicking his voice, a worried look in his eyes, hoping he wasn't being too vague. 'It's his car.'

'Good. Ambush them when they come up. Don't call me until you have the envelope,' he voice said. 'And remember; I want her alive.'

The line went dead.

They sat for a moment, staring at the mobile, the screen still lit with activity.

'Well, I guess recognizing the voice is going to be a bit more difficult than originally thought,' Sam said. He twisted in his seat a little, looking back at Alexia. 'Did it sound familiar at all?'

'It could be Thompson. It's hard to tell. It was too distorted,' she said, feeling a wave of hopelessness wash over her, but she would not let herself drown. 'We can use this to our advantage though. This buys us more time to question our friends,' she said, throwing a thumb over her shoulder, 'and it means that we can try to trace the call and look into other calls that have been made and received.'

'It's so nice to be with an optimist,' Fi said, throwing a little glare at Sam.

'I'm an optimist.'

'Easily debatable.'

'Not the time,' Alexia said, leaning on the back of the seat, putting her head between them to stop their glares, feeling the sides of her skull burning where they stared. 'We need to get to the location and get them tied down firmly. They're beginning to wake up.'

'Right. Good point,' Sam said, turning the ignition again, pulling out into the Miami traffic.

'If they wake up, just knock them out again,' Fi said, smiling wickedly.

'Oh, don't worry,' Alexia said, glancing to the one closest to her, seeing his eyes flickering beneath the lids. 'I will.'

* * *

_Next update: Wednesday the 14th of July_


	19. Lead

LEAD

Surprisingly, there was still silence in the warehouse.

Fi and Don had been inside the room with the little intruder friends for some time, yet there had been no screams, muffled or otherwise. There should have been at least quiet cries, what with the duct tape having been torn from their lips and the various methods that the couple would be using to extract information from the four of the men.

Before they'd stepped into the cargo crate, a system that they'd used before to great effect, they were bouncing like two energetic school girls. There was only one way to describe them.

Gleeful.

_Well, whatever makes you happy,_ she thought, shrugging her coat on before she leant against the wall of the warehouse, the metal cool against her back as she stared at the rusted crate, the brown and orange nearly the same as colour as the paint. She reached into her pocket, pulling out the container that held her antidote vial. She popped it open, heat flushing through her as she remembered taking it out.

Just so she could kiss Michael.

She'd never been so reckless. The only time she ever took it out was when she was in a one of her safe houses, places that no one but her knew about. Even then, it was only when she was awake and the vial was always close, in a pocket or tucked somewhere else where it could not be taken from her.

The fact that she'd even shown Michael still stunned her. No one knew about the antidote, not when it was so useful against Thompson. He feared her poisons because she had always led him to believe that once they were taken, there was no going back. They meant death to him.

That must have been why he'd sent so many men after her in the ambush, so many men with reasonable skills, the combination of them nearly being enough to stop her.

She really could have died.

She shook her head, taking the retainer shaped vial out. She rested it on her leg for a moment, watching the liquid within move when she did as she tucked the container back into the pocket of her coat. With practiced movements, she fitted the vial to her teeth, clicking the latches into place, not taking any chances that might mean it would fall out. This was the most important – and quite frankly ingenious – gadget she had created, though she knew that she would never be trying her hand at dentistry/orthodontics again.

By herself.

Ever.

'I didn't know that you have a retainer.'

Alexia dropped her hands, watching as Madeline pulled up a foldout chair beside her, sitting down. The older woman smiled. 'You just have such a beautiful smile. I didn't think you'd need it.'

Alexia smile. 'I guess I was late with getting bracers,' she lied quickly, knowing that telling Madeline about the antidote really could put her life in danger. 'I haven't had it for long.'

'I never had them,' Madeline said, smiling proudly. 'My teeth were always straight. I was the envy of some of the girls at school for it.'

'I guess I know where Michael got his charming smile from.'

She laughed, turning in her chair to look down at Alexia. 'He learnt that one all by himself. A long time ago,' she said, glancing over at Michael and Sam, love in her eyes for both her son and his closest friend. 'We grew up a little tough, and he always knew what he had to do for the family. At least, he thought he did.' She looked back to Alexia, still smiling as she remembered. 'One time, when we needed to take Nate to the hospital, our car wasn't working; his father had taken it apart, so he _borrowed_ a car.'

'Borrowed?'

'It's a term we use loosely in this family sometimes,' Madeline said. 'But he did. We took Nate to the hospital, and then as soon as we got home, _returned_ it, telling me that the people who had _lent_ it to him were very glad that Nate was well.'

'But?'

Another little laugh escaped her lips. 'He couldn't seem to decide whether he wanted to call the man Elliot or Max.'

'You were okay with all that.'

'Not so much at the time. He was stealing cars in his teens, but he only ever did it when the family was in trouble. That was the only time he would act out like that, to help us,' she said. 'His heart is always in the right place, even if his brain isn't.'

Alexia mirrored her smile. 'I know.'

'Take care of him, Alexia, because I can already see that he'd do anything to take care of you.'

Alexia reached up, taking Madeline's hand for a moment. 'I will,' she promised, following the undeniable wants in her heart, the need to follow her friend's words. Everyone seemed to be pushing so hard for her to have something with Michael, whether it was Fi's words of encouragement to assure her that he had feelings for her, or Madeline's words of trust. The only one who hadn't said anything to her was Sam, but she could tell that he'd been itching to ever since he'd come back to the loft after picking Madeline up.

Even now whilst talking to Michael, he would glance over, the smile in his eyes holding a hint of determination and curiosity.

* * *

'I don't want to talk about this right now,' Michael said, glancing over his shoulder, watching as Alexia settled down against the warehouse wall, her coat held tight around her. He wanted to go to her, to sit beside her and keep her warm as the draft wafted through, none of the industrial doors providing much in the way of sealing.

He didn't understand it. He didn't understand any of his feelings, all of them in a jumbled, awfully tangled mess deep in his gut. A part of him kept wondering if it was just pity that spurred him towards her, but he knew that he didn't pity her. There was nothing to pity, despite all of her pain and loneliness. She was strong, far stronger than most women – most men – that he'd ever met.

'Come on Mikey,' Sam said, obviously desperate to get anything out of his friend, 'you said later. Later is now.'

'It's not that much later.'

'It's still later,' Sam said, giving Michael a playful punch in the arm. He watched as Michael avoided his gaze, searching for any way to distract Sam.

'I wonder what mum is saying to her.'

'They're both smiling, so it doesn't matter,' he said. 'Besides, they're friends anyway.'

'What if she–'

Sam rolled his eyes. 'She's smart Mike. She won't say anything that she shouldn't to her, anything that might endanger her.'

Michael pursed his lips for a moment, but he knew that his friend was right. 'I know,' he said, turning back to Sam, still wishing that he could go to Alexia, sit with her, forget the ways in which Fi and Don were using to extract information from the intruders.

He bit back a curse as another, more forceful punch landed hard on his upper arm. He rubbed the spot for a moment, glaring at Sam who just shrugged, that playfulness bright in his eyes.

He quirked an eyebrow, arms folded over his chest. 'So, you going to tell me or am I going to have to hit you again?'

Pink flushed his cheeks, but he kept his features composed, refusing to acknowledge his embarrassment. 'Why do want to know so much?'

'Because you haven't gotten laid for–'

The spread a little further. 'The streak hasn't ended yet, Sam,' he muttered, clearing his throat. He glanced to Alexia, seeing the way she talked so comfortably with his mother.

'So you didn't do–'

'Not all the way.'

'Why not?'

'I didn't have a–' He stopped, taking a breath, the pink darkening to a rich red. His hand reached up to brush over his cheeks in an attempt to get rid of it, to stop it before it spread to his ears, though he knew the action would have no affect. 'Why the hell am I telling you any of this?'

'Didn't have a what?' Sam prompted. He couldn't hold back a laugh as the red spread like fire to Michael's ears, his gaze dropping straight to his feet. He held his breath, refusing to let the laughter that bubbled within him to escape, his eyes a little wide as he clicked. 'Why the hell wouldn't you have one?'

'It's not like I've got much time to go out.'

'Geez Michael, it's probably a good thing you two didn't get into it. You might have killed her with the force of–'

'Shut up!' Michael hissed, glancing to Alexia and his mother, hoping to god that they weren't listening. He glanced to the roof of the warehouse, praying for strength before he narrowed a glare at Sam. 'Will you stop?'

'No, not until you tell me everything.'

'I'm going to–'

'I'll tell Maddie.'

'You wouldn't.'

'Would.'

'Not.'

'Watch me.'

Michael opened his mouth to snap at him, floundering for words before he snapped it shut. 'Bastard.'

Sam grinned. 'Spill it, Mikey.'

'Please don't make me go into details,' Michael sighed after a moment, the red still staining his cheeks.

'The gist then?'

Michael held his breath, praying for strength again before spoke, his eyes locked on the concrete of the warehouse floor. 'We–'

He nearly cried out in glee as the door to the cargo crate swung open on hinges desperately in need of oil, the squeal nearly deafening.

'Oh look,' he said, dancing an outrageous happy dance in his head, 'there's Fi and Don. Best go see what they found out.'

He spun on his heels, ignoring his friend when he tried to call him back, hearing footsteps following close behind as he headed straight for Fi, seeing a small smile on her lips as she pulled the band from her hair, letting it fall on her shoulders. Don stood behind her, tall and intimidating with his six foot five inch broad frame, his chiselled features also holding a small smile as he walked with Fi. He closed the door, cutting of the cries that came from within the rusted metal as he closed the door, plunging them into darkness.

As soon as it was latched, his arms instantly went around Fi's waist, her smile brighter as she secured them around her.

'I'm guessing you two kids had fun then,' Sam said.

They both grinned.

'What did you learn?'

'Not much, but enough,' Fi said, pulling away from Don, though her hand instantly gripped his as she lead them away from the crate, not wanting to risk being overheard. Alexia joined them as they went far enough away that Madeline wouldn't be able to hear, huddled in a group. Fi looked to all of them in turn. 'They do not know anything about the envelope, just that the other group were the ones who were to take it from Alexia. That they were desperately clear on that,' she said, a small grin flashing over her lips. 'They also confirmed that it was Thompson that hired them–'

'Good,' Alexia said, her hands curling into fists. 'That means that–'

'But he's not the one controlling them.'

Alexia, Michael and Sam swore.

'They also don't know exactly who Twin is, the one that called on the way here,' she continued. 'We can use the fact that he is waiting on their call to our advantage though, because he doesn't know exactly who was hired. He just has one or two numbers of the group leaders, so if Sam can keep up the voice acting, we can become the team that we've got tied up.'

'Finally, something to go on,' Michael muttered.

'I guess we need to make another call then,' Alexia said, just a little spark of hope returning in her.

'Not yet. There's still one little problem,' Don said, glancing back. 'What in the world are we going to do about Maddie?'

* * *

_Next update: Saturday the 17th of July._


	20. Plan

PLAN

There was yelling on both sides, an argument that raged for half an hour that seemed like it would never end, but despite his mother's strong heart and stubbornness, there was no way that he would let her win.

'Nate is on his way,' Michael said. 'I hate doing this mum, but I need to know that you're safe.'

'And how do I know you're safe, Michael?' she asked, trying to hide the fear that never eased, though he'd come through so many bad situations mostly unscathed. 'How do I know that you're not going to be killed the second I leave?'

'It won't come to that,' he promised, though he knew it was empty, no comfort to his pissed off, frightened mother. He glanced to the others, the four strongest people he knew, people who he would trust with his life, though he barely knew one of them. 'We've got a strong team, and the upper hand.'

She pointed a harsh finger at him, narrowing her gaze to a glare. 'If you get killed I'll wring your skinny neck,' she growled. 'Got it?'

'I got it, mum.' He pulled her into his arms, ignoring the stiff hug that greeted him at first. It only took a moment for Madeline to cling to him, her real feelings showing without the tough mask and the attitude.

'You be careful,' she said when he finally pried himself from her grasp, knowing that he needed to make sure that Sam had made the phone call.

He nodded, bending to place a quick kiss on her forehead. 'I will be,' he promised. 'I've got good friends.'

'Take care of them.'

Again he nodded before he turned, leaving her to her chair and her magazines while he went to do what he could with the organisation of their plan, knowing that he would have to play one of the men that had invited themselves into his loft, Alexia likely out of the picture because they would know who she was. Thompson would have told all of the people he'd hired who she was, needing to make sure she would not be able to find a way into their operation. If she went in, she would be recognised. The instructions that Thompson would have given on how to deal with her would have been simple.

Kill on sight.

There were other possibilities though, as they had managed to find out that the various hired teams knew only the leaders, and not by sight. They had been kept separate in the hope to have some secrecy in knowledge, only some knowing of the envelope, but it had turned out to be a flaw on their part. Sam could masquerade as a leader, with Don, Fi and himself talking the three other places while they brought Alexia in to be…

No, it was too dangerous. He wasn't even going to consider it further, knowing that it was too risky, far too many things relying on luck. There was no way he could walk her into that danger, not knowing how many were guarding Thompson, the man who wanted her dead, or Twin, the mystery man – seemingly the one truly in charge – who wanted her alive.

And what if he gave it all away, his feelings for her emerging when he needed to pretend he wanted nothing than to torture her?

But, thankfully, Twin _did_ want her alive, so would that mean that the instructions that Thompson had likely handed down were null and void. He and Alexia were supposedly ambushed just after Sam had taken the call, so she was in custody, ready to do as Twin pleased, unless…

'Well, he wasn't happy when we called without the envelope, but it's set Mikey. We meet tomorrow at eight, after we've spent a good bit of time loosening your tongue for information, of course'

He quirked an eyebrow. 'Just mine?'

'Alexia wasn't with you when you pulled up,' he said. 'So we're currently torturing you to find out where she is, okay?'

'Brilliant,' he said. 'Does he know what I look like?'

'No, and he doesn't expect you to be brought to us alive, so that means that you can become a team member.'

'Even better,' he said, scratching his chin for a moment. 'I guess that leaves us with some time then.'

'Fi and Don are in playing with our friends again, so they'll be nice and occupied for quite a while.'

Michael pursed his lips. 'I guess we'll need some food, maybe something for me to sleep on.' He glanced up. 'Tonight, can you take my mum to a hotel and stay with her, just until Nate gets here tomorrow.'

Sam pouted. 'Why am I the one to miss out on all of the fun?'

'What fun? All I'll be doing is watching that crate rust. Besides, I may as well send Fi and Don home for a decent rest and so that they can get everything together weapon wise for tomorrow,' he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked to the ground.

'Good idea, but what about–'

'She can stay here with me. I want to keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn't have any problems with that concussion, and at least here no one will find her.'

'I bet I know your real motivation.'

Michael barely stopped the red from heating his cheeks. 'It has nothing to do with that.' _Nothing at all? Yeah right._

'Of course not Mikey,' Sam laughed, clapping his friend on the back with a solid hand. 'You keep telling yourself that while you and her are keeping each other nice and warm tonight.'

Michael gritted his teeth, wishing that he could land a good solid fist in his friend's face, be he knew that he couldn't deny it, couldn't even form the words in his mind, let alone voice them. He did want to keep her warm, have her body wrapped around his just like in the loft and more, her warm skin brushing every inch of his. He craved it, but more than that, a part of him needed it, needed to just hold her for a while and be held in return, even though there didn't seem to be any logical reason for it.

_Yeah there is; you're lonely, and you know that she's lonely too._

Well, he couldn't argue with that.

'Just take my mum somewhere safe tonight. Pay in cash and all of that. I'm going to the supermarket so I can get some food, okay?'

Michael turned on his heel, not waiting for a response as he headed for the van. He climbed into the front seat, closing the door a little harder than he had intended to. He dropped his head back onto the rest, sighing, thankful that he'd gotten away before Sam had tried to – once again – interrogate him about what had happened between him and Alexia in the loft.

What he wanted to happen again.

He cracked his neck, pushing his sunglasses into place before he reached for the ignition, the key still there.

'What's wrong with you?'

Michael jumped, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the van as he twisted, gaze meeting the brilliant green of Alexia's eyes. She stared at him with curious eyes, a little stunned by his reaction as she sat forward, her elbows resting on the back of the seat.

Michael took a breath, mouthing a curse. 'Nothing,' he said. 'You just startled me, that's all.'

'I hope you realise that I don't believe you.'

He sighed again. 'I'm just worried. Everything needs to fall exactly into place, and I really hope it does.'

Alexia glanced away, settling herself against the side of the van as she flexed her fingers a little, staring at them. 'I'm sorry I brought you into this.'

'I'm not.'

She looked up, unable to ignore the charming smile that covered his lips. She smiled back, still glancing at her fingers. He stared for a moment and as she moved he saw the flash of metal on her skin. A ring or two, possibly, but it didn't seem right.

'What is that?'

'Hmm?' She looked up, drawing her attention away from the objects on her fingers. She watched as he glanced to the silver, reaching out to take her hands in his, thumb tracing the bands that sat not only in front of each of her middle knuckles, but the matching one that rested between the final knuckle and the back of her nail. There were even rings on her thumbs.

'Oh, these,' she said, absent as she looked to them, pulling out of his grasp. 'Fi asked if I wanted to help with the interrogation process and said I should get something that our friends might find frightening, so I found probably the second most ingenious gadget that I've ever created.' She clapped her hands together, the digits meeting their matches, a faint metallic click sounding, blades flashing into view, pointing past the tips of her fingers. When she held her hands up, palms facing him, he could see the cradle that each tiny blade had rested in, stretching from a centimetre behind the first ring at her middle knuckle to the hinge at the final knuckle, protecting her skin from being sliced.

He had to admit, it was rather ingenious, the system designed so that it was hidden from view – except for the point of the blade, visible past the tips of her fingers – all whilst enabling her to flex and move her fingers almost as freely as she would without the device.

'You carry more weapons than you first led me to believe, don't you?'

She smiled. 'Well, a girl needs to be able to defend herself.' She pushed the blades back into place, seemingly unafraid that they would flick out and harm her. Obviously they needed a lot of force to be dislodged. 'So, where are you going?'

'I was going to go get us some food. Do you want to come?'

She glanced from him to the rings. 'Yeah, I think I'd rather not scare people on an empty stomach.' She climbed into the front seat with ease, stretching her long, denim clad legs out in front of her, the material tightening.

He'd never wanted to reach out to someone more, to draw her close and wrap his arm around her. What he wouldn't give to be able to forget for a while, to pretend that they were just heading out for an evening at one of the beautiful Miami beaches or for a night camping, away from the world where all they had to think about was…nothing. Where he could focus on her and only her; her mind, her body…

Her heart.

He held back his hand, tightening his grip on the steering wheel as he turned the ignition, circling in the ample space of the warehouse before they went through the partially open roller door, left so that they could exit when they needed.

He had to get his head straight, had to focus on the serious situation at hand, if only for a little while longer. Tonight, however, when their rude little friends were finally allowed a moments rest and their exhaustion took hold, when Fi and Don had left and Sam had taken his mother to a safe place, he would not be able to deny himself any longer. He would not be able to keep himself from reaching out to her, holding her.

He wouldn't want to.

* * *

It had been a quiet trip to the supermarket, her mind whirling with thoughts that she just wanted to ignore. Michael had updated her on what Sam had said, saying that they had some time and would be making their move tomorrow. He planned on telling Twin, whoever he was, that Alexia had not been found, that no matter what they had tried, they could not get Michael to talk.

She had protested. She was not being left to sit and wait, not when she could help them infiltrate the guard that likely surrounded Twin and Thompson. They needed as many people as they could get inside, and she was an asset. Besides, the prospect of her capture would likely distract this Twin figure, the one who wanted her alive, so it made sense to take her in.

Michael had flatly refused. He had dared to tell her no, to try and put her in a place she didn't belong.

In the corner. Out of the way.

But despite her anger at his commands, she couldn't be angry at him when she knew that he was just trying to protect her. She would not be sitting out though. She would be going with them to the meeting as a prisoner, whether he wanted her to or not.

She would convince him later.

For now, she walked around the supermarket, grabbing food and dropping it into the basket that Michael carried, the incident in the van almost forgotten. She felt somehow…_normal_, as they walked around the shop, talking, _laughing_. She even gasped in surprise as he tapped her on the ass, pushing her ahead of him with a wicked grin on his lips.

It couldn't be right though, the way they were so comfortable with each other. For him, it had to be an act, a couple's trip to the supermarket to restock a few items.

For her, well, she just didn't know.

'Go get a few bottles of water,' he said, leaning to kiss her on the cheek before he tapped her ass again, a little smirk lifting his lips. 'I'll go get some toothbrushes, deodorant. You know, all of that.'

'Alright.'

'Any preferences?'

'No.'

He grinned. 'I'll meet you at the checkout.' He turned in the opposite direction, leaving her grinning like a fool as she headed for the drink aisle, a part of her deciding that even if it was an act, she was going to enjoy it. When else was so going to have the opportunity to feel so comfortable with a man, even if that man was Michael Westen, one who she had feared for so many years?

_Strange, how the universe works._

She headed for the checkout, a six pack of water bottles in her arms. He flashed that charming smile at her as he glanced up from unloading the last items from the basket before he dropped it onto the stack at the end. The lady at the checkout was putting the items through with a bored expression, though Alexia could have sworn that a smirk had lifted the aging woman's lips. Curious as she was, she was too focused on Michael.

As soon as she reached him, the hand that wasn't reaching into his pocket for his wallet went to her hip, drawing her to his side while he pulled a note out.

'Anything else that we need that you can think of?' he asked as the last item went through.

She shook her head, letting her arm snake around his waist, surprised by her action, though she couldn't bring herself to draw away. She saw the lady smirk again as she glanced up, no doubt thinking them quite the odd couple with her fitted leather coat and the rings on her fingers – no one would notice the blades – and his worn jeans and mysterious sunglasses, still resting on the bridge of his nose.

Michael paid and they gathered the bags, walking out to the van, his hand reaching for hers, sending a flash of blush over her cheeks. It had to be an act, but she still couldn't bring herself to draw away.

'What do you think that lady kept smiling about?' she asked, unable to hold the question back any longer.

A small smile flashed on his lips, though the glasses hid the emotion in his eyes. 'I haven't got a clue.'

* * *

_Next update: Wednesday the 21st of July_


	21. Trust

TRUST

Sam had packed Madeline up, taking her to a hotel a reasonable distance away, Chuck Finley coming out to play to get the reservations. Madeline was still angry at Michael, but only to the extent that she resisted for a second before kissing him on the cheek with a mildly stern call-me-when-you-can look thrown his way.

Alexia hadn't been able to hold back a smile when she hugged her friend, glad for her presence during the day, but it was better to send her somewhere safe. She left with a few quick goodbyes, getting into the car with Sam, mumbling that she didn't get to talk to Fi before she left.

She was preoccupied, still inside the rusting cargo crate with Don, trying to extract more information from their rude little friends, but it seemed that their limit had been reached. Despite there being any further progress, the pair had still been smiling as they'd stepped out of the crate and locked it behind them. Only a small cry came from within, the men drained and hoarse from their previous attempts to cry for help.

No one would find them though, that they were all sure of. Only when it was over, when Thompson and the mysterious Twin were defeated would they find a place to drop them off, mostly unharmed.

Physically.

When it was all over, they would never harm another again, never even dare to hurt a fly for fear that Fi and Don would find them.

The roller door groaned as it slowly unravelled itself, shutting out the world, leaving them alone within the warehouse, the cargo crate the only other object that stood in the massive space, aside from the van.

Alexia kicked her boots off, throwing them into the front seat, out of the way, the blow-up camping mattress that they'd picked up earlier taking up the entire floor of the van.

She leant back against the front seat, reaching into her bag for the little box that she kept her "rings" in. She felt that she had played her part in the interrogation of the intruders, some of the hoarseness in their voice a result of their pleas to her, asking that she keep away, asking her not to use her ingenious gadget against them.

She hadn't, but the very show of it, of clapping her hands to release the blades, letting them see the points flash in the harsh fluorescent light that had been hastily installed within the cramped space. She'd walked towards one, dragging her hand over the crate's wall, the squeal of metal on metal filling the space, making them cry out in pain. Don had nearly reached to cover his ears, a grimace exactly like Fi's on his lips.

The reactions from the men were far worse, brought on by hours of interrogation techniques that were designed not to hurt, but to manipulate. They were scared, tired, and very willing to spill the last bits of information that they withheld by the time Alexia had left.

'Fi was quite impressed.'

Alexia looked up as she snapped the box closed and stowed it in her bag. 'Really?'

He smiled, nodding as he closed the doors of the van behind him, hoping to keep more warmth in as the temperature outside dropped. 'She wants some of her own.'

'I can make them for her. I'll just need to get the right measurements for her fingers,' she said, reaching into the pocket of her coat once she'd taken it off, hanging it on the back of the front seat. She pulled out the container for the antidote vial, popping it open so that she could place the retainer inside before it too went in the bag.

'I think she'd love that,' he said over his shoulder as he leant over the back of the front seat in search of the grocery bags.

'Good.' Alexia smiled, a little brighter without the retainer in. She was so used to restraining her expressions, not wanting anyone to see the metal or reflected light from the glass of the vial. Most would believe that no one noticed what was in someone's mouth, but all it took was a precautious – or even curious – person to see something out of place.

'So, what would you like to eat for dinner?'

Alexia stamped out the blush that tried to creep over her cheeks, cursing herself for her stupid reaction. There was _no way_ she had just thought that, yet still the images flashed through her head, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise. She cleared her throat.

'Pass an apple,' she said, voice far quieter than she'd hoped it would come out as she made the poor mistake of looking to him, seeing only stretched fabric and denim as he stretched a little further. The denim went taut over his ass, his thighs, making her realise exactly where the images had come from.

He really was quite a delectable specimen.

She shook her head, forcing herself to look straight to the back of the van, her eyes tracing the shapes of the doors and windows as she tried to distract her mind.

How the hell was she going to make it through the night?

_Just focus on eating the apple once he gives it to you,_ she chanted in her head, the words flying out the window as soon as her fingers brushed over his, a thrill of electricity shooting through her, teasing her senses as he sat down next to her. She stared at it, feeling the burn of his gaze move up and down her body, though she doubted that he were even looking at her.

She bit into the fruit, tossing her bag into the front seat. She kept staring at the back door of the van, but still her mind drifted to their time at the supermarket. She'd wanted that to go on forever, but as soon as they were back, she'd hardly seen him. When she'd been out of the cargo crate he'd either gone in or had been in deep conversation with Sam, so she'd sat with Madeline, keeping her company throughout the afternoon that slowly turned to night.

She wanted to go back to the supermarket, stay there in that brief frame of time where she wasn't the Shadow Viper, the agent with frightening command over poison. She wanted to just be Alexia Salazar, to feel like a real woman for just a moment longer, as she had been when she'd allowed herself to be lost in Michael.

But, just as she feared, it had been an act – when he'd kissed her on the forehead before they'd left the loft, when they'd laughed at the supermarket, held hands as they walked through the aisles of the camping store – disguising them as a couple so that they could blend in.

She could have screamed at herself for getting too deep, for allowing herself to drown in it.

_But it had been so convincing._

Alexia nearly jumped as a fingers traced her arm, raising gooseflesh on her skin. 'I wasn't ignoring you earlier,' he said, voice soft, his eyes following the movements of his hand. He leant his head on her shoulder, the action surprising in its tenderness. 'I needed to focus on getting ready for tomorrow, and all I could think about was you. If I'd stopped for even a moment there's no way I would have been able to keep myself away.'

She couldn't help herself. Before her mind had time to realise her intention, she had reached out, apple tossed in the plastic bag that was serving as a rubbish bin. Her fingers brushed over his ear, down to the nape of his neck. She grazed her fingernails over his skin, watching the shiver roll down his spine. 'Why don't you want me to go with you tomorrow Michael?' she asked. 'You know that I can help, but you won't let me.'

He pulled away from her hand, leaning back against the seat. 'It's dangerous, Alexia.'

'Nothing I can't handle.'

'I'm not risking your safety when we can tackle this on our own.'

'You realise that this Twin figure is likely to kill you if you don't turn up with me,' she said, unable to stop the bite in her tone. She didn't want that, didn't want to even consider the reality that Fi and Sam could get hurt.

That Michael was at risk, all because of her.

'It's a risk I'm willing to take.'

He cursed as her hand slammed into his cheek, sending his teeth clattering together. He rubbed his cheek, casting a glare at her only to meet eyes burning with green fire, the anger within them searing his skin.

'Not on my watch,' she nearly growled, reaching out to grip his chin. 'We're going to need as many people inside as we can get, okay? You're not putting all of your lives on the line for me when just turning up to the meeting without me could get you killed.'

'But–'

'No buts,' she said, her grip on his chin moving to his cheeks, tightening until his lips were pushed out, leaving him unable to speak.

And looking like a fish.

'I'm going with you tomorrow disguised as a hostage whether you like it or not,' she said, leaning a little closer, brow quirked as if he dared her to question him. She batted away a hand as he tried to remove her hand.

'Mmt hw do yuu pnn tuu ee dzguyzd uz a hustij?' _But how do you plan to be disguised as a hostage? _Another attempt to move her hand.

'You know I'm good at hiding weapons. You carried me, fought me and…kissed me, and still you didn't know I had a butterfly knife.' She smirked, trying to hide the small blush that coloured her cheeks. 'Oh, and then there's that little vial on my wrist.'

Yet another attempt. 'Whu ff zey chck yur wists?' _What if they check your wrists?_

'It can be hidden other places.' Another smirk, the green burning with mischief. 'And there is more than one vial.'

'Lve a mschvuus wmmn.'

She quirked an eyebrow. 'What was that?'

He brushed her hand aside, not meeting the resistance that had batted him away before. He grasped her wrists, making her gasp as he pulled her toward him, her body collapsing into his arms. 'I love a mischievous woman.'

He buried his hand in her gorgeous hair, pulling her close as though about to claim a kiss, but only his breath met her lips, hot as it drifted over his skin. 'I care about you Alexia, possibly more than I can understand,' he said, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth, the action more of a caress over her skin. Her hands slid up his sides, over his back to clutch his shoulder blades, her heart hammering in her chest. Again his lips caressed her skin. 'This isn't an act.'

She couldn't stand it anymore. With a frustrated noise escaping her, her hands went to the nape of his neck, her sigh melding with his as their lips met, the kiss just as powerful and tantalizing as before. That underlying tenderness remained, though their needs welled, the kiss searing as she shifted to straddle him.

His hands came to her hips, palms burning a trail over her skin as he pushed beneath the hem of her shirt, fingers splayed as he pressed her closer. His hands skated higher, reaching her bra before he carefully lifted the garment over her head, ever careful not to cause her pain with her injured shoulder.

The shirt went over the seat, his lips straight to her neck as he nipped at her skin, grazing his teeth over the sensitive flesh just above her collar bone as he slipped his hands beneath the hem of her jeans. 'These need to go,' he whispered against her skin, squeezing her before he pressed her closer, a groan tumbling from his lips as he rubbed against her heat. He reached for her bra again, unclipping the front. 'And this.'

It was tossed to the side, his hands moving to cup the soft mounds. Her nipples were already tight, puckered, waiting for his mouth. He took one of the rosy tips between his lips, the suction he applied making her body ache, the moisture pooling hot between her thighs as he grazed the sensitive flesh. He massaged her body, hands reaching to cup her ass to rub against her again, the sensations sending her thoughts scattering.

'Same with this,' she managed, prying her fingers from the grip she hand on his hair to reach for his shirt, intent on exploring every inch of the sun kissed flesh once she had stripped it from his body, but as soon as it had come over his head he gripped her tighter against him, kneeling before he laid her back along the mattress. He reached for the button of her jeans, slowing as he slowly pulled the zipper down, pale blue holding green captive.

'Can you guess what I plan on doing?' he asked, sliding the denim over her hips, hands following every inch of skin he revealed.

She swallowed as she watched her jeans fly over the back of the seat, her eyes returning to Michael's as he eased her legs apart. 'Yes,' she said, not caring how breathless she was as he skimmed his hand up her calf, dipping his head to kiss her knee as he settled between her thighs. His hand continued its journey north, stopping just short of the black panties, though she'd obviously changed them since the loft. Lace lined them, just a sprinkling, but it was enough to make his mouth water as his gaze locked onto her heat.

'Do you want me to?'

'Oh god yes,' she said, hips lifting in invitation. He reached for the fabric, hands sliding over her hips, still brushing just shy of the place she needed his touch most.

He pulled the fabric from her slowly, revealing her as though she were a gift before the garment followed the rest of her clothes. For a moment he just stared, her cheeks flushing with pink as he licked his lips. 'I haven't been able to stop myself from thinking about this,' he admitted. 'I've wanted to taste you ever since the loft.'

'Then please Michael,' she said, back arching as she throbbed, seeing the hunger in his gaze as he dropped to his elbows, one hand easing her thighs further apart. They fell open, his breath burning over her delicate flesh as he placed the lightest kiss against the top of her inner thigh.

'Say my name again,' he said, fingertip shifting through her curls.

'Please, Michael.' A little gasp as he exhaled another breath over her exposed flesh, her nerve endings hyper aware of his presence. 'Take me, Michael, I'm yours. Please, Michael.'

She nearly sobbed with relief when he gently parted her delicate flesh, head dipping to lave over the swollen bud that begged so desperately for his attention. Her back arched as he flicked his tongue, rubbing her exactly as she needed, the memory of her body's needs burned in his mind from his very first touch of her flesh. Her back arched, her hips moving to rub herself against the heat of his tongue as she clawed at the mattress. She felt the sweet fire coiling within her, hotter and hotter with every flick of his tongue, burning her from the inside.

She cried out as he slid a finger into her tight sheath, adding another as he stroked her deep within, her body opening to him, welcoming him as he added a third. He rose, hand coming to rest beside her head as he brought his body above hers, the rhythm pumping within her never slowing.

He knelt, reaching into his jeans, putting the corner of the packet between his teeth before he shed the denim and boxer briefs to launch them over the seat, still stretching her, his length throbbing in time with the moans that spilled from her lips.

'Would you do me the honour?' he asked, shifting over her again.

She opened her eyes to find him naked, deliciously so as he looked down at her, hand braced beside her head. He withdrew his fingers, rubbing her clitoris with the slickness from her sex.

She reached up, taking the packet from between his teeth to place it in hers. She tore it open, hearing the little growl that rumbled through his chest as he watched, bringing his hand up to taste her again before he placed it at her side, supporting his weight as she held his gaze, her hands trailing over his chest, down the hard planes of his stomach. He drew a sharp breath as she took him in hand, stroking his shaft with her silky skin before she slid the condom down his length.

'Ready?'

'So very,' she said, her fingernails embedded in his hips as he took himself in hand, rubbing the head of his cock against her sex. Her head dropped back, breath sharp as he brushed over her entrance. 'Now, Michael.'

He thrust, nearly crying out as her heat enveloped him inch by inch, so tight, perfect. He dropped his body lower, chest rubbing against her rigid nipples as he claimed her lips, desperate to join them in every way as he ground his hips, barely withdrawing before he buried himself again. He withdrew further and further with each thrust, stroking deeper and deeper, his breath ragged as he brushed his lips over her collarbone.

He reached down, hand sliding down her thigh to her knee to wrap it over his hips, her other following to tighten around his body, thighs like silk as they held tight. He angled himself, increasing his pace with every thrust as she arched against him.

Her body jerked as he hit just right, a cry wrenching from her lips. 'There!' she gasped as he hit it again, working his body to aim it exactly where she needed. 'Yes, right there, Michael, right there!'

He claimed her lips, pushing his legs to kneel low, arm around her waist to support her back as he lifted her hips higher. His eyes nearly rolled back as he felt the first telltale tightening of muscles, her sex slicker and slicker with every thrust, tighter and tighter around his length. He throbbed harder with every stroke, his hips with a mind of their own as he ground against her, body seeking the release it so desperately craved.

'Alexia, I don't…I don't know how much longer I can hold…' he breathed, sentence ending in a growl, his body wound tight in anticipation.

'Just a little more,' she promised, hands wound in the sheets. 'Almost…'

Another growl rumbled in his chest. He lifted her, arms wrapping tight around her as he thrust high, her legs still wound tight around his waist as he pulled her right onto his lap. He leant back on one hand, finding that sweet spot within her again as her hands clutched at his shoulders, her body arched, her head thrown back as those gorgeous chestnut curls cascaded down her back. Unable to resist, he latched onto one of the rosy tips, teasing it before moving to the other. He pressed a kiss to her chest, breath ragged, sweat making his hair stick to his brow as he strained to hold on, refusing to climax until she was right there with him.

She screamed in abandon, his name spilling from her lips as she tightened around him, the pressure of her orgasm shattering his control, a harsh cry of pleasure escaping him as his seed shot from his body, pumping from him in time with the squeeze of her sheath.

The moment dragged on so sweetly. They collapsed in a pile of sated limbs, their chests heaving with the effort as he shifted her over him, claiming her lips for a breathless kiss before he rolled to the side, nose brushing hers, hand on her cheek.

She smiled at him, their breath mingling as his fingers entwined in her hair. 'I guess you knew why that lady was smiling at us,' she breathed, claiming his lips in a quick kiss.

'Well, I figured you might have guessed.' He slid the condom from his body, wrapping it in a tissue before he put it in the makeshift bin – a plastic bag – that had been hung in the van.

'I really didn't think that we'd be in this situation again.'

He sighed. 'You silly woman. How could you even think that I didn't still want you?' he asked, drawing her body tight against his, her leg draped over his hip. 'This will never be an act, Alexia. This is just me, Michael, and I want you with every part of me, not just the horny ones. I know you still find that hard to believe, but you don't have to be a spy around me.'

'I know,' she said. 'It's just been a while since the notion of someone wanting to give and not ask for something in return was fathomable.'

'Well, I wouldn't say I don't ask for anything or return except that you trust me,' he said, tucking her hair behind her ear, his muscles contracting as she ran her hand up and down his side in a soft caress. He smiled. 'That you let me love you as you are, paranoia and all.'

'You're not really talking about love,' she whispered. 'That's not possible. This is just–'

'Whatever it is, it's beautiful,' he said. 'I don't want it to end, not once this business with Thompson and Twin is dealt with, not for ever after it if you can stand me.'

'Are you saying…?' She couldn't finish, had to hear it from him.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. 'I want to be with you Alexia. You're strong, determined, a little stubborn and persistent to the point of annoyance, but I want it all because it's who you are.'

She smiled, tucking herself further into his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace as he coiled his arms tight around her. The strength of his body, of his heartbeat as she rested her head on his chest was comforting beyond imagination. 'I'm yours.'

* * *

_Next update: Saturday 24th of July_


	22. Too Green

TOO GREEN

Alexia had never carried so much poison, the bracelet on her wrist moved to her ankle, just below the top of her shoe, another added on the other. There were patches behind her ear, on the nape of her neck and on the back of her hips, blended with the skin until she chose to break the seal and reach within. More were hidden beneath the hem of her jeans, just as with the four. She had the antidote in place too, just in case, though she didn't believe she'd feel like administering it to anyone that they encountered.

However, Michael was most surprised by the way she'd hidden the rings, all resting in plain sight as they held her chestnut curls back from her face. They would be explained away, said to be left over preparations to go into a club in the search of more information on what Thompson was going. He did frequent the place, after all.

That would be how they found her. They'd followed her home from the club, waiting until she was distracted before they ambushed. She'd fought back, but with a lingering concussion, she'd been unable to stave them off. The bands remained in place in her hair because they were simply cheap, barely metal pieces of crap that they couldn't be bothered removing. Besides, it would hurt more if they decided to rough her up.

He had to admit that she was rather brilliant in her scheming, thinking of such a good way to explain the silver, leaving just enough leeway for doubt in the story to be believable.

His favourite trick, however much he wished she would use a different weapon, was the butterfly knife. It was still in place, but it was a distraction, meant to not only draw attention away from the rings in her hair, but from the other concealed weapons she carried. After all, Michael had not found it, but he had believed her when she had told him that she didn't have anything dangerous concealed on her.

Thompson and Twin would not.

She had replaced her butterfly knife with a practice one very similar in design, her model 51 concealed expertly in her right shoe, its brother within the left. Even Fi hadn't found their hiding place, and she'd been looking for the weapons upon Alexia's instructions.

Michael suggested that she try and hide a gun, but she'd said two things:

_Where?_

_I hate guns_.

He had given up after that, deciding that there was no point in arguing, especially when she'd given a demonstration on just how good she was in using her knives in hand to hand combat, turning him into the test dummy.

He wasn't been given the chance to go easy on her.

There had been no nicks or torn shirts though, not when her aim was to merely demonstrate, not cause pain. There was no doubt that hand to hand was her strong suit, no matter how adept she was with the weapons that she checked with Fi, the only thing to give her distaste away being the look in her eyes, that certain glint that said she would rather put the heavy metal down, despite how well she handled it.

But even with the poison, her rings and her butterfly knives, Michael still didn't want her to go in with them, not when they had no idea of the number they would be up against, despite knowing that she could take care of herself. A part of him was angry at his thoughts, at his protectiveness of her. After all, he was willing to put Sam, Fi and Don in the fray, but not the woman he'd been in the company of for less than a combined forty-eight hours, and she'd been unconscious for a good portion of it.

Yet already so much had happened…

He ran a hand over his face, sitting in the back of the van, the doors open. They'd just cleared out the blow-up mattress, preparing to pile in for the trip to the meeting place. He hadn't been able to look at it as he'd deflated it, so many images flashing through his head, her silky skin, her gorgeous chestnut hair and her smiles. More than that, he could hear the way her gasps had filled his ears and feel the warmth of her embrace.

And the conversations, the stories she had told about her life, opening her heart little by little to them over the night as they lay a tangle of limbs, neither wanting to move.

He was surprised that she hadn't lost her humanity, especially without family to anchor her, without her mum or her dad to annoy her every once in a while with a nagging phone call. By now, she should have turned into someone like Larry Sizemore – violent, unstable, immoral, just looking for the next load of cash, whether it involved killing innocents or not – but she hadn't.

She only killed when there was no other option. Even with her life threatened, she hadn't tried to kill the men that had ambushed her in the alleyway when he'd chased her. She'd fought to hurt, to knock unconscious, never reaching for the butterfly knife that was tucked under her bra. He still didn't quite understand it, but then he'd realised he would probably have tried to same tactic.

If he hadn't been fighting to stay conscious.

She'd been suffering a concussion, an injured shoulder and a leg injury thanks to the fence she'd scaled, and still she'd only fought to hurt. That's something he couldn't admit that he'd do.

She frightened and amazed him, and still she drew him forward when he should have been pushing away. In less than two hours, they'd be at the meeting place with god knows how many men to fight once they were in, and having feelings for her would only give them away.

But he couldn't deny her, not when he'd woken with her tightly tucked against his chest, her arm draped around his waist, breath falling softly against his skin. The rational part of his mind had begged just a nuance of distance, but instead his arms had tightened around her, almost possessive in their embrace.

And he'd never wanted it to end.

He was so scared of taking her to the meeting, still injured, but she had nearly beaten him into submission with her glares and her far-too-logical-for-his-own-good argument. She might be injured, but when she fought it was hard to guess. He hadn't understood how she could continue to fight as though in prime health with the injuries she had, not until she'd told him the stories of her life once her parents had died.

He wanted to forget them, but they would be permanently burned into his memory, the reason behind the shadows in her gaze, shadows he planned on erasing.

If they got out alive.

He stood up, clearing out any rubbish and removing their bags from the van, carrying them straight over to Sam's car to dump them, knowing that they would be leaving it locked up in the warehouse to take the van.

'What's wrong?'

He felt a hand slide over his back, coming to rest on his shoulder blade before it continued around, tickling his ribs. Her arms wrapped around him and he felt his eyes close, his breath slowing as the world around him was forgotten for just a little while.

She came around his body, hands resting on his chest before her fingers brushed along his jaw, drawing his gaze to hers. 'Tell me.'

'I'm just thinking,' he said, reaching up to hold her hand against his cheek, not wanting her to draw away. 'All I can see are the ways this could go wrong, and there are many.'

'It was never going to be easy. We just have to stay on our toes and be ready for whatever Thompson and Twin throw at us,' she said, resting her head against his chest. 'We can do it. We don't have any other choice.'

'I know, but all of you are in danger–'

'Because of me,' she said, cutting him off. 'Don't try and make me feel like this isn't my fault, because it's really not going to work.'

'But it's not your fault, not really,' he said. 'This is the work of Thompson and Twin.'

'And I could have stopped it from ever getting to you if I'd taken more care in the alleyway.' She pursed her lips, tightening her hold on him for a moment. 'If I hadn't gotten distracted, they would have been lying unconscious in the alleyway only to wake up with me gone and Thompson angry that he'd never be able to find the envelope. But I took my mind off the task at hand and panicked when I shouldn't have.'

'I chased you.'

She smiled. 'I nearly got you killed in London. I'm not surprised.'

_I don't think that was my only motive, even then._

* * *

Alexia had to admit that she didn't mind the taste of blood. It wasn't disgusting, even though she could taste the metallic tang of it on her tongue and feel the congealed liquid on her lips. After all, it was life flowing through her veins, so why should she be disgusted by it?

She licked at her lips. 'Damn Fi, you have a good right hook.'

Fi grinned. 'Well, when you grow up with brothers you tend to get good at holding your own against them.'

Alexia couldn't help but return her smile. 'I bet you kicked their asses.'

'Frequently, by the way she can kick mine,' Don said, another grin spreading over Fi's lips, reaching from ear to ear as she glanced to him.

'Not like you don't deserve it.'

'Well, either way we always make up after.'

'Don't want to know!' Michal and Sam shouted from the front, sending the three in the back into a fit of laughter.

'Are you sure Sam?' Fi asked. 'I mean, you were complaining about not getting–'

'And who says I'm not getting–'

'Children, stop,' Michael snapped. 'We need to focus.'

Sam laughed. 'You're only saying that because you haven't broken the–'

'Enough.'

'He really hasn't.

Michael snapped his jaws closed, unable to stop himself from glancing to Alexia, remember exactly how much he had broken the streak. He saw the cutest blush run over her cheeks, already slightly red from the roughing up she'd been given to make it seem more like they'd been getting information from her, or at least trying. Fi had been pretty gentle though – Alexia's lip spilt but not swollen – just to make sure there was some physical evidence, leaving the rest of the convincing up to Alexia's acting abilities.

After some of the stories he'd heard the night before, he wasn't surprised she was so good.

'Well, you two are quiet all of a sudden,' Sam said, waggling his eyebrows. 'Anything you want to tell us?'

'Anything we haven't already guessed,' Fi added.

'No,' they answered, glancing at each other, little smiles lifting their lips, 'nothing at all.'

Don cleared his throat. 'Serious faces on,' he said, moving to the other side of the van, away from Fi, though the grip on the other's hand lingered for a moment. 'We're here.'

He reached forward, putting the black plastic into place, sending the back of the van into darkness.

'You ready?' Fi asked, kneeling beside Alexia.

'Yeah,' she said. 'Put it on.'

The bag – washed and smelling of roses, thankfully – went over her head, sending her crashing completely into darkness, not light making its way through the material. She felt Fi's hand grip hers, holding tight for a moment before they helped her toward the back of the van, ready to get out and take her into the house that stood deep in the bayou.

'Whatever happens, don't let me get eaten by alligators, okay?'

'I promise,' Fi said as the van pulled up, stopping gently so that they would not get thrown around.

She felt the sun as the doors to the back were thrown open, her vision limited to blurry shapes as she stared through the black fabric. She slumped a little, letting Fi and Don hold her weight, the charade of weakness needing to be enforced early. They jostled her a little and she heard them scowling as they played their part of abductors.

'I see you found her then,' said a voice, unfamiliar but no doubt Twin's by the hint of irritation.

'Michael proved to be rather plaint when put under a little…_pressure_,' Sam said, imitating James's voice as he did before.

'I guess the things I heard were a little exaggerated then,' he said. 'Come, bring her inside. There is much we have to discuss.'

_Yeah, discuss, _she thought as Fi and Don guided her forward, a little less forceful, telling her that Twin had turned his back. The light that had been shining on her disappeared as she felt wooden planks beneath her feet, Fi nudging her to tell her that there was a step. Again, she was plunged into complete darkness, but soon there was flickering above her head as lights were turned on, though they only caused the darkness of the dank room to stir.

She was forced onto a chair, feeling Fi squeeze her shoulder reassuringly just before her already bound arms were pulled over the back of the chair to be secured – loosely – to the seat, her feet also tied down, though Twin had no idea just how easy it would be for her to free herself.

'Where are the others?' Michael asked, his voice lower, accented with an almost southern tone.

'Around,' Twin answered, 'waiting for my call if I should require them. They are quite displeased that you were the ones to catch her, but thankful that they didn't get killed because they failed.'

She heard him shift a little closer, a little more weight on one of his feet, though she couldn't tell which one.

'Would you like us to leave you?' Don asked, going on what they'd rehearsed.

'No. She is sneaky, slippery. I want you here just in case she manages to free herself, though I can't see that happening in her state.' He came a little closer. 'If you could just ignore our conversation though, that would be nice. There is so much to discuss between us.'

The bag was dragged from her head and she slumped forward, grimacing, making sure he saw that she was in more pain that she really was. She only saw his feet before he moved behind her, reaching around to roughly grip her chin as he rested his head on her shoulder, forcing her to look to the corner of the room.

'So, do you still blame your handler?' he asked.

She didn't let him see the emotions that welled in her as she stared at his prone body, congealed blood still slowly seeping through the hole between eyes that were wide with surprise. 'I see you took care of him for me then,' she said, no emotion in her voice even as her split lip ached.

'He outgrew his usefulness.'

The hand released her and she slumped forward again, shaking her head as if trying to keep it clear. She focused on the shoes so close to her, her feet itching out to kick him in the shins, but it wasn't time.

'So, child, are you going to look at me?'

'I'm not sure I want to,' she said, keeping her eyes glued to the floor. 'It would spoil the fun.'

Fingers gripped her chin again, just as rough as last time as he forced her gaze skyward, right into his eyes. She'd had a witty remark prepared, but it scampered away from her, everything within her crashing as he grinned, his eyes staring straight into hers.

'Hello, child,' he said, malice glinting in a gaze that was just as green as hers.

She nearly choked. '…Dad?'

* * *

_Next update: Wednesday the 28th of July._


	23. Fine Line

FINE LINE

Michael nearly blew their cover right then and there. He barely stopped himself from reaching for his weapon to put a bullet between the bastard's eyes, the green shining with malice. In truth, it was only the firm grasps on his wrist that stopped him, Fi and Sam anticipating his thoughts, his anger.

Alexia had loved her father – loved still apparently – so dearly, the death of him and her mother shattering her. She'd been alone ever since, cast into a world of survival with no living relatives and a foster system that did nothing for those who were orphaned but throw their lives into a living hell.

She'd never been whole without them. She'd always had a hole, a scar that was carved deep in her heart, one that he hoped he could heal over time.

After this betrayal, it would never be possible.

He saw the shadows fluttering in her eyes, living now within her gaze. They enveloped her, the lights in the bayou house flickering as though reacting to her, to the emotions that churned within.

'It can't be you,' she muttered, trying to look away, but he refused to release his grip, holding their matching gazes even as every second tore deeper and deeper into that scar.

The bastard actually smiled at her, straight teeth stark against his tanned skin as he knelt in front of her, levelling their height. 'Oh child, that's the thing. Your father is dead, oh so very dead and buried in that grave beside his wife.'

'But you're–'

'I guess he never told you about me then? No surprise, considering I was the stupid one of the two, the annoying waste of space that could never achieve anything with his life. I guess I proved just how wrong that assumption was.'

Alexia couldn't breathe. All she could manage was to stare at him, her eyes burning with tears that she couldn't stop.

He leant a little closer, breath wafting over her, smelling of mint with a twist of blood as he laughed. 'I can understand why he never let me see you, but to never even tell you that I _exist_ is just harsh. Cruel even. Maybe you would have figured out the meaning behind the name I gave you if you had known about me, your dear old not-so-doting uncle.'

'You planted it.'

'Oh yes.' A smile crossed his lips, one that was just as praising of her deduction as it was insane. 'See, you always believed that the only person you could ever have cause to fear was Michael Westen, but I'm the one who's been following and watching, waiting for just the right time for our reunion.' He snapped his fingers, standing up again, pacing in a circle, his hand reaching to tap his chin thoughtfully. 'But wait. It's really our first meeting. If only there could be hugs all round.'

His gaze shot to the others, pinning them with its intensity. 'Would you return my embrace Axe, Sam Axe.' The green shot to Fi. 'Or Fiona Glenanne,' he said and he snapped his fingers again, gaze passing between Fi and her husband, 'or should I say Mrs Don Kane.'

He crouched in front of Alexia again, eyes level with her as he placed his hands on her knees, leaning in, invading her space, crushing the walls that she had put up against the world. 'I guess you know that you don't have to fear Michael Westen anymore, not when he's just aching – no, _dying_ – to throttle me and not you.'

'If you know who we are, if you've been watching us, why not attack us before,' he snapped. There was no need to hide the emotions he felt if Twin already knew about them. Hell, he would use them, show the maniac just how pissed off he was.

Twin shrugged. 'It was more fun watching you plan and scheme when I knew that it would come to no avail.'

'Let them leave,' Alexia said. Her voice was quiet, an echo of the normal strength it held, the shadows creeping further and further into her gaze. 'It's me you want, and you have me.'

'There's no fun in that now, is there?' Twin said. 'Why would I want to just play with you when I have five to maim and torture for that envelope? You must think bigger, child.'

'Psychopath.'

'Sociopath, actually,' Twin corrected, not bothering to look at Fi, the two green gazes in the room firmly locked on each other, neither blinking. 'There's a subtle difference you see.'

Sam nearly growled. 'I'd say it's a pretty fine line.'

Twin just kept smiling. 'I was not born like this; I was shaped to be so by war and blood. My brother, however–'

'Don't you dare–'

'He was a psychopath. He was always fascinated by the things that I happily embraced later in life.' He smiled at her, reaching up to brush the back of his knuckles over her cheek in a sickening caress. 'Your parents didn't run into that tree accidentally dear child. He aimed.'

'Liar!' She screamed, feeling her lungs burn as she strained to release the bonds on her wrists, but she was too riled. She wasn't focusing properly, her struggles pulling them slightly tighter with each jerk. 'You bastard, don't you ever say that about my dad!'

'I wouldn't, Michael,' Twin said, voice tut-tutting even though he never looked to him. 'All it takes is one little melodramatic scream from me and my friends outside shred this place with hollow-points, meaning that not only you die, but your friends and your lover as well. However, you and I will have to have a serious conversation about your latter position.'

Michael released the grip he had on his weapon, hands clenching into fists as he dropped them to his sides. Twin smiled as Michael glared, continuing as though he hadn't just thrown a death threat. 'It needs to be said, dear Alexia. You must know that he didn't kill himself and his wife just for shits and giggles, but in a silly attempt to protect you from me.'

'Stop trying to be a good guy,' she snarled.

'Oh, I'm not. I'd just called him, told him of the oh so wonderful things we could be doing if he'd just come to all of the warzones, the death hotspots. You see, the spy business has run in this family, on our side at least. Before you were born, both your father and I were operatives, but he tried to convince himself that he wanted out, that he was done with killing. So he married and fathered, and I think managed to truly convince himself that he loved you and your mother, but every time I called, every time I pushed him to accept me back in his life just a little harder, to tempt him to follow his true path as a–'

'_No!_'

'–killer, he refused, even though I knew how much he wanted it. So he drove off, and the next time I heard from him was through the news that reported his death. I knew that he drove off that road on purpose, because I was the one who told him to rid himself of his baggage and join me, join his twin, the one who understands him.' That lecherous smile never ceased, permanently lifting his lips. 'I know that all this must sound like some terrible cliché drama, but in time you'll see that he really should have just come with me. He could have saved you so much pain if he'd just taken the time to kill you and your mother when I'd asked. I would have helped, and then you wouldn't have had to find this out the hard way – you wouldn't have lived to have such an idealised view about those that raised you.'

'Enough!' Alexia leant back, slipping the ropes from the chair legs, kicking out with all of the force she could muster. She winded Twin as her boots collided with his stomach and chest, sending him flying backwards as she too fell, gravity taking over until hands caught the back of her chair.

Lips pressed against her temple. 'Good girl,' Michael whispered as he righted her, knife making short work of the bonds on her wrists. She shot up, feeling Michal, Sam, Fi and Don step beside her as they closed ranks around her wheezing, bastard uncle. She shot a foot at his jaw, stopping him before he could open his mouth.

'How's that melodramatic scream coming?' she snarled, laying a booted foot on his chest, the urge to snap his ribs as she pushed down growing stronger and stronger as she watched him gasping for the air he had lost.

But a few broken ribs would only desensitize him from the pain she would mete out…

A wicked smirk curved his lips, his hands reaching as though about to wrap around her ankle, but Fi stopped him, kicking his wrist to send something – a weapon? – clattering away along the solid floor of the house. Still the smile remained, blood welling slowly from the split in his chin as he wheezed. 'Too late…'

Their gazes shot to the object, expecting to see a small calibre gun. Instead, they saw a red light and a speaker grill, the item set to transmit.

'Shit.'

They dropped flat against the ground as the bullets ripped through the building, sun leaking through the holes to relieve some of the dankness in a roar of sound. Michael reached behind him, careful to keep his arm low as he pulled his gun from his belt, his arm shooting around to destroy the walkie-talkie in a flash of electronics and plastic.

'Now they won't know what's happening inside,' he said, barely audible over the gunfire, but it was beginning to slow, fewer rounds ripping through the house with ever second that went by. 'Don, Sam, go to the wall and shoot through some of the holes at the bottom. Take out as many as you can and cover Fi and I while we head out to the van to get more weapons, just in case more are on their way.'

'What about me?' Alexia called.

'I'll leave you to deal with Twin. I know you can.' He reached out, gripping her hand before dragging himself closer to kiss her fingertips. 'I'll be back by your side before you know it.'

* * *

Michael didn't want to leave her, but he had no choice. At least with Twin she could beat him up and keep him down. Against so many men with so many guns, he wasn't going to send her out with just her blades and her hand to hand skills.

He and Fi carefully crawled away on their bellies, reaching the door as Sam and Don made it to the wall, taking aim as the gun fire stopped. They let loose a few bullets, each hitting their mark by the screams of pain.

'There are five left.' Sam called.

Another scream sounded and Don said, 'make that four.'

Michael and Fi leapt to their feet, bursting through the door to take out the final men before sprinting to the van only to be blown back as it went up in flames. Twin really had covered all of his bases, probably getting the men that had surrounded the building to set the explosive in case they made it out.

But if it was set off…

They went straight back to the dead men, taking the weapons that they could, rifling through jackets and pockets for the spare rounds. They took turns in shooting at anything that moved in the shadows of the surrounding bayou as they compiled what they could. More of those screams of death met their ears, but there had to be more, the leaves and bushes still rustling. They sprinted back inside, dropping into crouches beside Sam and Don.

'In case you didn't see or hear it, they blew up our van,' Fi said as she dropped the arsenal she'd collected in a pile. 'More are coming.'

'Of course they are,' Twin laughed before he spat blood. 'I called them, so they will come.'

'And we will kill,' Fi said, a smile coming over her lips that was made only to bare her teeth, Alexia half expecting them to sharpen before her eyes.

Twim smirked. 'Not before I kill her.' He gripped Alexia's arms before he swung his feet straight into her hips, flipping her through a back window, broken by the gun fire. Michael shot forward but fire at the front of the house drew his attention as the rain of bullets began again, more of the men appearing from the greenery to descend toward the house.

Still he tried to go to her.

A hand grasped his wrist, pulling him back. He shot a glare at her, ready to snap but she spoke before he could even form a sentence in his head.

'She'll be fine, Michael, you know that.' She forced him to drop a little lower, a bullet whizzing past his ear. 'Let's get rid of these bastards first. If we don't, she won't have a chance at all.'

He gritted his teeth, turning to face the wall again, picking up on of the guns they'd collected from the men outside before he took aim.

* * *

_Next update: Saturday the 31st of July_


	24. Sharp Like Knives

SHARP LIKE KNIVES

Alexia gasped as she landed hard on her back, a stab of pain shooting through her shoulder from the impact. Her head ached where the metal rings had knocked against her skull. Thankfully, none of them had broken, reminding her that she could use them, but she would not pull them out of her hair.

Not yet.

The patches on her skin had split though. She could feel the liquid snaking a cold trail down her neck and behind her ears, but the ones on the hem of her jeans were still intact, ready and waiting if she needed.

She could hear gunfire, but she had to believe that Michael and the others would be okay, her attention focused on Twin. She forced herself to roll onto her stomach, pushing herself up even though her arm shook from holding her weight. She forced herself to stand, taking deep breaths as she stumbled. Twin pushed himself up too, a little steadier than her as he straightened to stare with those green eyes. He wiped blood from his grinning lips, spitting it from his mouth. 'Still a little sore, child?' he asked as they circled each other, sidestepping, the distance between them never changing as their boots squelched in the mud of the bayou.

'Can hardly notice it,' she lied, hands still at her sides, her fingers begging, flexing, wishing that she had her rings on so that she could tear him apart. Michael had not seen the modifications that she had made to them – none of their team had – but she would only use them as a last resort.

He smirked, reaching into his sleeves to pull out the knives.

Butterfly knives.

She stared at them, watching as he flicked them open with the same sequence of tricks she always used. She kept staring, watching the metal flash in the sunlight, the blue in the handles shining, almost iridescent.

'Do you like them?' he asked, flicking them again before he held them in a fighting grip, fingers flexing. 'They're model 51's. Absolutely beautiful, aren't they?'

_They're my knives. _

He smiled a strange smile before as he lunged for her, slashing across. She felt the blades graze the material of her shirt, the wind from it cold against the skin the cuts exposed.

He'd just missed her, and he was holding back.

She ducked beneath his arm, sweeping her heel down and onto his shoulder. He cried out in pain, dropping one of his blades, unable to reach it before she had kicked it away. She landed another kick on his shoulder and swept her hand out, grasping the blade that fell from her boot, the backing that had held it in place dislodged from the force of her kick. She flicked it open, only able to cut a shallow line down his back before he dropped forward and rolled away, on his feet again to block her next attack.

She lashed out but missed, using his focus on the blade as a distraction as she slammed her hand into his ribs. He crumpled but still fought, the blade swiping against her ankle, cutting the anklet that held one of her vials, just nicking her skin. The vial dropped into the mud, buried beneath it as she flipped back to avoid the blade when he swiped again.

'You're quick,' he said, lunging though she parried, each time trying to knock his blade from his hand or slice his fingers to make him release it, but he held fast, always keeping the hand holding the knife just out of reach.

Alexia clenched her teeth as his blade sliced across her free hand, blood tricking down her fingers, her quickened heartbeat doing nothing to stem the flow. She hissed as she clenched her fist, ducking to doge another attack while she pulled some of the torn fabric from her shirt off, wrapping it around her hand before she lunged again, surprising him when she dropped, sweeping her foot out again, heel connecting with his thigh.

The backing was jammed.

'That was a neat trick before, hiding your knife like that,' he said through clenched teeth as he stepped back, one hand moving to rest over the impact point. 'I guess you were hoping to make it two against one.'

'It would have been good to switch the odds,' she said as they began to circle each other again.

He lunged first and she dodged, not noticing that his hand had swept out until it was too late, fingers ripping down her back to dislodge the practice knife from her bra, sending it straight into the mud. He pushed her hard and she stumbled, giving him a chance to sweep it from the ground. He flicked it open, smirking. 'Let's keep it even.' He threw it through the trees and deep into the bayou, the sound of it as it hit the water echoing, followed by the hiss of disturbed animals and the growls of alligators.

'You have the same blades as me,' she said, trying to keep him talking as the staccato gunfire continued, none of the bullets reaching them out the back of the house, distanced from the structure as their fight took them further into the trees and the bushes, the mud a little thicker with every step.

'These are a particular favourite of mine,' he said, hiding a flinch behind his sick smile as he rolled his shoulders. 'Yours too, I see.'

'Why?' she demanded. 'Why do you have the same blade?'

He shrugged. 'Similar tastes.'

Her stomach churned. 'I'm nothing like you,' she snarled, wanting to hurl more and more with every second he held her gaze. 'I was never, nor never will be anything like you.'

'Keep thinking that. You may not be like me, but you will be like your father one day.'

She wanted to scream. 'My father was not a psychopath.'

'You know that envelope, the one that I have been coveting, that you have withheld from me?' he said, easing a little closer as they circled, though she matched him with a step back, determined to keep the distance unchanged. 'Did you notice that it seemed a little old, a little worn and just so slightly crumpled?'

'If you knew what was inside, why did you need to get it off of me? You must have had the formula.'

'No, no. It was my brother who was the expert in that field, blood thirsty enough for it, but that is not the point. I needed the formula so that I could pay a lab a nice fee to make it for me, to alter the virus and make it an epidemic, one that would be oh so terribly difficult to stop before it had sent the world crashing into havoc and violence and rage. That was why it was so brilliant, the best reason to convince your father to come back to me. He had made it, but had hidden it, knowing that one day he would be tempted.' The smile curled, crueller than ever. 'It was the thought of unleashing it that nearly brought him back to me before he crashed, but then he'd always believed it didn't quite have the…_personal_ touch he liked to have in death. I guess it wasn't convincing enough.'

She screamed, leaping forward, running her blade along his arm, dodging before she lunged again, but this time he caught her. He wrapped his fingers around her neck, flicking the blade around. She saw the flash of metal and reacted on instinct, kicking as she arched her back, sending him flying away from her as she dropped to the ground, straight onto her injured shoulder.

She cried out in pain before she rolled onto her back, the hissing and growling of alligators louder, as though they were answering her cries. They were moving closer now, moving through the bayou and the greenery around them, but they were the least of her problems.

Twin was winded again, moving slowly, one of his ribs fractured from the impact. Still he managed to stand with laboured breaths, but she was already up and freeing her hair from the silver rings and quickly pushing them onto her fingers, the blood that had trickled down one of her hands making it easier.

He held his knife tight, one hand wrapped around his ribs, though he still mustered a deranged smile. 'Is this really the right time to accessorize?'

She sprinted toward him, darting to the side to avoid his blade before she landed a solid fist to his spine. Another punch, his cry of pain wrenching from an aching chest as he stumbled forward. She waited for him to face her before she pressed her hands together, the little blades glinting in the light as they sprung from their sheaths.

'Another neat trick,' he said, smirking as he dropped a little lower, 'but it won't help you.'

She stood her ground as he sprinted toward her, sidestepping to grip his hand, the little blades embedding in his skin until he dropped his butterfly knife with a cry, another slipping from him as she sliced his face, adding a couple more cuts to his lips before she gripped his shoulders, flipping him hard onto his back.

And somehow he still brought himself to his feet, but she managed a smile as she stared at him, though she could not muster the insanity within his grin. 'That's a nasty toy. We're supposed to be bonding, dear Alexia, not slicing and dicing.'

'You seem to know a lot about me,' she said, ignoring him, her breaths a little heavier from exertion. 'You even know my name, though that is no surprise considering you're my uncle, but I wonder if you know the name I am famous for.'

He flicked his knife, readying to attack. 'Shadow Viper. A little uninspired if you ask me.'

'You obviously do not know the reason behind it,' she said, bringing her hands up to show him her palms. The blades were coated in blood, but that was not what drew his attention. He was focused on the small pieces of shredded plastic that had one covered the blade in its sheath, sealing it and something else in.

For the first time, his smile faltered.

'…You–'

'Yes.'

'But there are cuts on your hands. You'll be poisoned too.'

'Ah, but that's the thing. I didn't earn my little alias simply because I _use_ poison, but because I am a master at using it, at creating and altering it in any way I please. Yes, the poison has mingled with the blood on my hands, but this poison has a very specific need,' she said, feeling a small smile pick up the corners of her lips as his continued to disappear with every word. 'This poison in particular really loves saliva.'

Twin swiped his hand over his mouth, looking at the blood that coated his fingers from the cuts she'd just sliced in his lips. He spat, hacking up what he could, but she just shook her head as he swayed a little, dropping to his knees as he wiped more blood from his lips.

'It's too late. There is some already working its way into your system, slowly incapacitating you, though it will not kill you. Not unless I give you a higher dose.'

He looked up at her, his head looking heavy as he slumped, lying on his back, still staring up at her. 'No,' he muttered, trying to stand up again, but his he could hardly roll let alone support the weight of his body. 'How could you?'

'You threaten the lives of everyone in the United States and beyond with your virus and then you threaten my friends. If they have even been scratched by a bullet when this is all over, I will subject you to all of the effects of the poisons I have, and you will scream in pain for every minute of it, cursing every time I force you to swallow the antidote so I can use another.' She moved forward, slamming her foot into his ribs, hoping her foot had just hit the one she had fractured. He cried out in pain, none of the smugness in the green eyes far too like her own, the frightening smile gone from his lips.

'Please!' he screamed as she walked away. 'Alexia, why would you? You're not like me…not like me…my daughter.'

'Good try _uncle_.' She went to kick him again, leaping back as an alligator broke through the nearby trees to snap at Twin. He screamed as it sank its teeth into his side, but it only grazed him, pulling the shirt away from his broad body before it lunged back. She scrambled back, horrified as her eyes locked onto a spiral scar and a tattoo that stood out against his toned skin in simple black ink.

_Kultaseni_.

Finnish, just like her father's family had been, the translation making her scream.

_My Sweet_.

The alligator snapped again, but this time he did not scream. He stared at her, the green unchanged but the life in his eyes different as he the jaws crushed him, jerking him away, his breath gasping as he tried to reach for her with bloody fingers.

She dropped to her knees. 'How?'

'I survived…ran from car. Hid…Hate myself every day.' He gasped as the jaws tightened, blood running down his sides. 'Don't become me…Love him, more…than I loved your mother…Don't slip like me.'

She screamed as another alligator came, scrambling backwards as more and more joined, dragging him away and into the bayou. He did not struggle, did not make any noise, the only sign of his existence the marks in the mud that slowly faded as it settled back into place, the trail of blood mingling with it. She shot to her feet but was stopped by a firm grip around her waist, wrenching her back into strong arms.

'It's over, he's gone. You don't have to keep fighting him. You're safe.'

'No,' she growled, trying to pull away from him.

'He's not worth it.'

She grabbed his arms, slicing at Michael's skin to spin out of his grip. He lunged for her and she backhanded him. 'He's my dad!'

He grabbed her wrists, spinning her to trap her arms and hands as he put his chin on her shoulder. 'He's not, he's your–'

'Kultaseni,' she screamed, struggling in his arms. 'He had a tattoo that said My Sweet, exactly like my dads with the exact same scar just beside it. Now let me go!' She elbowed him in the ribs but he didn't release her, just grunted with the force of it, so she tried again. '_Let me go!_'

Her body shook as she sobbed, fight draining from her limbs as she heard the alligators hissing and grunting, water splashing somewhere behind the trees and bushes. She crumpled and Michael followed her to the ground, drawing her into his arms, never saying a word even as she buried her face against his chest, the little blades on her fingers nearly imbedded in his shin as she clutched at his shoulders. He just rocked her, letting her scream in pain at the knowledge that her father had not been dead. He had been insane, ruled by another personality within his mind that had turned him into a monster.

And now he had been devoured, torn to pieces by alligators, and she could not stop it, a part of her hating that she hadn't really wanted to. He'd left her and had returned only to cause her pain, to threaten all that she loved.

But she still loved him.

* * *

_Miami_

_Four Months Later_

Alexia stared at the clock beside the bed, watching as the minutes slowly ticked by. She was restless at home. With Thompson gone she was not really a spy anymore, no real desire in her to go into the business alone, not after she had seen what had become of her father.

He had been an operative, and a good one too. He'd gotten too deep though, had dragged himself out too late, his life already changed too severely. She tried not to think of the things he'd had to deal with in his childhood, knowing that they, along with the horrible things he had witnessed and was asked to do eventually snapping something within.

She reached to grip her chest, wishing that she'd never known he lived, that he could have died as Twin, as a man she did not know and trust, but even then she would never have been able to trust a man possessed by another in his mind, not when it put so many at risk. She still loved him though, wished that she could have saved him from the alligators, to talk to him when he was himself.

But there was nothing she could do now to change what had happened. So she refused to dwell, to let the ache in her heart and the shadows in her eyes devour her. She had a purpose, one that was not merely job after job, one where she could help people around Miami.

Alexia rolled over as she heard someone at the door, pulling one of her butterfly knives from beneath her pillow as she sat up and flicked it open, aiming for when the door opened. It swung open, presenting her with a back before they turned and she flung the blade, the man freezing as it embedded in the doorframe beside his ear. He turned slowly, an eyebrow quirked as he closed the door behind himself. 'I guess I woke you then.'

She couldn't stop herself from smiling as he dropped a bag of groceries on the counter beside the door, keys, mobile and shoes discarded as well as he went to her. He climbed over her, pushing her back on the pillow to claim her lips.

'Why didn't you wake me before you left?' she asked as she drew back to catch her breath, fingers trailing over his ribs to the top of his jeans, her hands instinctively slipping beneath his shirt to caress his skin.

He bent his head to her neck, kissing her skin, nipping softly in the places that he knew she liked. 'You looked so darn cute. I just couldn't do it.'

He slid his hand beneath the covers, gripping her hip as his lips trailed lower and lower, a growl of disappointment rumbling through his chest when she pulled his head back up, smirking. 'And just what do you think you're doing?'

He grinned before he growled at her, nearly purring as he bent his head to nip at her skin again. 'You just look so sexy with bed hair. I can't help myself.'

'You love it.'

'I love you.'

Her cheeks still flushed with colour when he said it, and he took the opportunity to kiss the pink skin. 'Say you love me too.'

'You know it.'

'Say it,' he whispered against her ear so she could feel the smile on his lips. 'I love it when you say it.'

'I love you Michael.'

THE END

* * *

Thanks so much for reading everyone. I loved writing this, and it was so wonderful to read the comments you left me.

To regular readers, although this is the end of How It Burns, I hope you will look out for my future fan fictions.

I have to admit that I'm already considering writing another Burn Notice fan fiction in future.

Thanks again.

~ Ryuk In Person ~


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